The Color In Anything
by LetMeWalkTheEarthWithYou
Summary: Multi-Chapter-Story/-"Are you happy?" For the second time that day Spencer catches her by surprise. "Aaron is," Emily answers softly. Her dark eyes glistening in the sunlight that's breaking through the clouds, and for a moment he remembers the first time he saw her walking into the office. "Most days," she adds quietly. "That's enough."-/Emily&Aaron/Emily&Spencer
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**

 **AN:** **Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

 **(for the sake of the story let's just pretend Emily is a few years younger)**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

 _"Apologies are just words." - L. Heather, CSI Vegas_

 _._

* * *

 **.**

 **Part I**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **January**

 **.**

He hears the girls' voices long before they come into sight. Talin and Lacey laughing and squealing, holding on to each other's hands, while they make their way through the snow.

"Uncle Spencer," they call in unison, waving at him as soon as they spot him waiting on the front porch. He waves back, a smile already playing on his lips.

"Do you have carrots, Uncle Spencer?" Talin asks, bouncing up the old wooden steps. "I want to built a snowman!" Spencer laughs, points at the open door behind him. "I'm sure there are a few left in the fridge."

The four and a half year old gives him a satisfied grin before she bolts straight into the house, leaving a trail of snow behind her.

"Talin, your shoes," Lacey calls, irritated by her identical twin, and rolls her eyes in the same way her mother does. "Hey, Uncle Spencer," she greets him then, bending forward to give him a hug. "Are you cold?" she wants to know. "Do you need me to get you a blanket?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Spencer murmurs, his face pressed against her dark curls. "You smell like cookies," he states. "Did you bring me some?"

Lacey giggles, her dark eyes glistening, when she pulls back to look at him. "Of course, Uncle Spencer. We made your favorites. Mommy has them in her bag."

"Where did you leave her anyway?" Spencer wonders, looking behind Lacey to check the small path leading through the trees.

"Mommy is- "

"Feeding Matteo," Talin finishes, a bunch of carrots in her gloved hands. "Or changing his diapers. Or both. He always wants something."

Spencer has to bite back a laugh at the blatant annoyance in Talin's voice and watches as she reaches for her sister's hand to pull her back down the steps.

He keeps sitting on the porch while the girls scamper through the snow, throwing and rolling snowballs as carefree as only children can be. It's only a little while later when he finally spots Emily making her way through the snow and towards his house.

"Talin told me Matteo is keeping you busy," Spencer announces as soon as she's close enough to hear him.

She chuckles, that laugh she does so well, _that sound he loves more than anything else in this world_ , a hand protectively on the little boy's back where she carries him in a baby sling against her chest. "You can say that again," she states, coming up the steps.

"Hey," she murmurs thoughtfully, her dark eyes filled with warmth when she bends down to give him a hug.

.

They're sitting in the kitchen, a chessboard set up between them on the table.

From where they're sitting they can still watch over the girls in the living room, drawing pictures with the new pack of crayons Spencer had found online.

"I'm still amazed there are glitter crayons."

"You wouldn't believe what else there is with glitter," Emily chuckles, her right hand resting on Matteo's back, the baby still peacefully sleeping against her chest.

She seems tired, but also at ease with herself. Even though-

"Do you miss it?" he asks, and he's startled by his own question. He watches her face falter in seconds. There's no need to clarify what he means, she knows exactly what he's asking.

"Sometimes," Emily answers after what feels like forever. Her voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes I do."

He doesn't dare meet her eyes and so he stares down at the chess board instead. He's winning. But only because she lets him.

"What about you?" she asks after another long pause, her free hand reaching for his over the table. "Do you miss it?"

He shakes his head. "No," he tells her, looking up to meet her eyes after all. "I only miss you."

.

They leave around noon.

Talin and Lacey give him their drawings to pin against his fridge, hug him tightly, before they bounce down the steps together, singing some children's song Spencer doesn't recognize.

"Talin, where's your scarf?" Emily calls from inside the house, where she's trying to get Matteo back into his snowsuit.

"Snowy has it."

"Who?"

"Our snowman," Talin explains, and Spencer watches Emily frown.

"Well, go get it, you need it more than him!"

"But Mommy-" Talin protests, dark curls flying when she shakes her head stubbornly, and Spencer reaches for his own scarf without hesitating.

"Here, Talin. Take mine," he says, and shrugs when Emily gives him a strained look. "Hers is wet anyway," he states calmly.

Emily sighs, but says nothing, and while she puts Matteo back in the baby sling, Spencer helps Talin put on his purple scarf.

"You'll get it back next week," Emily tells him when she steps outside, pulling her coat tightly around Matteo.

"It's not like I need it," he murmurs, watching the girls and wishing they could just build a snowman together, like he did with Henry and Jack a lifetime ago.

"You should come visit us, Spence. We have a guest-room on the ground floor. It would be no…" she keeps talking, but Spencer stops listening. Allowing her to visit him was as far as it would go. He'd told her. Again and again.

"Are you happy?"

For the second time that day he catches her by surprise.

She shuts her eyes briefly before she bends down to kiss him on the cheek. She smells like baby powder and chocolate cookies and something that's just her. _Emily._

"Aaron is," she answers softly. Her dark eyes glistening in the sunlight that's breaking through the clouds, and for a moment he remembers the first time he saw her walking into the office. "Most days," she adds quietly. "That's enough."

He feels her fingers brush against his. "See you on Monday," she promises before she turns to leave, Matteo in her arms and the twins already running up ahead and down the snowy path. They keep turning around, waving back at him, just like they always do, and Spencer keeps waving back until they disappear behind the trees and he's left alone again.

.

* * *

 **.**

 **2006**

 **November**

 **.**

The first time Spencer catches them red-handed, they're on the jet back to Washington. He wakes up halfway through the flight, only to find the jet plunged into darkness and everyone else around him fast asleep.

 _Except for Emily._ And Hotch.

The curtain that separates the back of the jet is closed, but not fully, and through the small gap and in the faint light that's falling from above, he spots them right away, almost as if they wanted to get caught.

He feels his cheeks flush instantly, but even though his mind is screaming at him to look away, _he doesn't._

Hotch has her pressed up against the wall, in a way that seems far too practiced, giving the impression this isn't the first time. Emily has her arms slung around his neck, her cheeks flushed and her eyes closed. Her lower lip caught between her teeth to keep herself from making a sound. They're still dressed and Spencer remembers Morgan joking about their newest team member, _Emily,_ always wearing a skirt to work. He hadn't understood what was so funny back then, but now he thinks he does.

He keeps staring even though he knows he shouldn't, keeps staring until she's falling apart, until that second when there's nothing but bliss written all over her face. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

It's also the moment his book slips from his lap and hits the floor with a thud.

Spencer freezes.

There's a gasp, _Emily's_ , followed by hushed whispers and the hasty rustle of clothes. Spencer shuts his eyes, both panicked and ashamed, sinking further down in his seat. When he dares to open his eyes again he finds Emily heading for the bathroom and Hotch sitting back down in his seat, his suit surprisingly unwrinkled.

Spencer counts to twenty before he stands up to get himself some coffee.

"He's married," he mumbles, when she steps out of the bathroom, surprising not only her but himself as well. "You deserve better."

Her cheeks are still flushed, but she's made up perfectly. There's not a single hair out of place.

"Do I?" she asks, her dark eyes searching his curiously. Daring him to keep talking. He doesn't, stares down at his coffee instead. Wishes he'd just kept his mouth shut.

"You know nothing," she tells him calmly, before she leaves him standing there.

.

He falls in love with her the moment he spots her walking into the office for the first time.

(On a Monday morning in the middle of November.)

.

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **January**

 **.**

"What happened to Uncle Spencer's legs, Daddy?"

Aaron stops short in the middle of the room, the fairy book he'd just read to his daughters still in his hands.

"I found a picture," Talin explains, the slightest quiver in her voice as she looks up at him from her pillow. "He was playing soccer with Jack and Henry."

Aaron swallows. Wonders where she found that _bloody_ picture.

"There was an accident, Talin."

"What accident?"

"A terrible one, honey. I'll tell you when you're old enough to understand."

"That's unfair," Talin protests, and Aaron fights the need to sigh.

"Can't we just teach Uncle Spencer how to walk again?" Lacey asks, and Aaron turns his head to meet her gaze. She's lying in her own bed, across from Talin's on the other side of the room, her dark eyes watching him carefully.

"No, sweetheart," Aaron murmurs quietly. "We can't."

"That's why Mommy's so sad," his daughter says, but it sounds more like a question.

Aaron rubs the bridge of his nose, takes a breath.

"It's bedtime," he states, softly but firm, leaving no place to argue. "Good night, I love you."

"We love you too, Daddy," his daughters answer in unison, and Aaron turns off the lights, leaving the door slightly ajar before he makes his way back downstairs.

He finds Emily where he left her, fast asleep on a blanket on the living room floor next to Matteo. Unlike his mother, Matteo's wide-awake, sucking at his fingers, getting more and more frustrated.

"Hey, little one," Aaron murmurs quietly before he picks his son up in one smooth move, carrying him over to the kitchen to get his bottle ready before he even has the time to start screaming. Like always,Matteo falls asleep long before he's even finished his bottle. By the time Aaron puts him down in the crib they keep in the living room, he realizes Emily's watching him from where she's still curled up on the blanket on the floor.

"That doesn't look comfortable," he states softly, bending down next to her to push a strand of her long hair behind her ear.

"It isn't," she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep. "But I'm too tired to move."

He settles down next to her and Emily rests her head on his chest.

"The girls asleep yet?" she mumbles, her fingers curling around the fabric of his tie, making him aware of the fact that he hasn't changed his clothes yet.

He nods. "Yeah, Matteo should be asleep for a while too. Jack's still reading that book Spencer gave you for him."

"He'll be happy to hear that," Emily murmurs against his chest, and he slips an arm around her waist to pull her closer against his side.

"Emily," he starts, before he can change his mind. "I don't want you to drive all the way out there by yourself any longer."

He can feel her whole body tense.

"Lacey told you," she states.

"No," he whispers. His lips close against her ear. "Talin did."

She takes a breath, her grip around his tie tightens. "I'm just tired, Aaron. I lost it. I'm sorry."

He shuts his eyes briefly, fights against the image in his head. "Talin said you cried the whole way back. It's an two hour drive, Em."

"Three," Emily clarifies. "In this weather it's at least three hours and besides, you do remember that Talin likes to exaggerate, right?"

"That's why I talked to Lacey, too."

He watches her close her eyes. "What do you suggest? That I just skip visiting him?"

"No, I just don't want you to drive out there all by yourself. I'm going to ask Dave if he's free next Monday."

"You know Spencer doesn't want to see anyone else."

"I'm sure Dave's more than willing to play your driver."

She stays silent, but only for a moment.

"Fine," she agrees, and it pains him how easy it has become to convince her. He'd loved fighting with her. Now the most stubborn person in the house is Talin, and fighting with her usually ended with him being frustrated and Talin slamming the doors or crying or sometimes even both.

"How is he?" Aaron asks, despite his better judgment.

"Aside from all the obvious things, you mean?" Emily laughs. It sounds cold and bitter. He shuts his eyes.

"Are you ever going to stop blaming yourself?"

"No," she whispers. Giving him the only answer there is. "Never."

.

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

The man shows up out of nowhere.

Suddenly he's just there, in the middle of the office, and when Emily catches sight of the gun in his hands it's already too late.

"Aaron Hotchner," the man calls, prompting Aaron to turn around from where he's standing only a few feet away from Emily's desk. "This is for my son," the man states, his voice frantic, his eyes burning with rage when he pulls the trigger.

The first bullet goes straight through Aaron's shoulder, throwing him backwards. The second finds a home in his chest, making his body jerk from where he's lying on the ground, turning his white button down crimson. The third bullet hits the window to Aaron's office, shattering the glass into a thousand pieces.

Emily blinks, watches as the man in front of her crumples to the ground. A bullet hole at the back of his skull, a puddle of blood forming on the floor.

There's something wet and warm and sticky on her face and she doesn't understand, until Morgan's hands close around hers. His voice strained and _all wrong_ when he tells her to _please_ , put down her gun.

There's an eerie silence before everything interrupts into chaos.

.

In the end it just ends.

(On a Monday morning in the middle of November.)

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* * *

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 _"We all make mistakes, and we all pay a price." - House M.D._

.

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 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**


	2. Part 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**

 **AN:** **Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part II**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **February**

 **.**

"I need you to take Matteo today."

"Sure," Aaron murmurs, lost in his thoughts, his eyes fixed on the newspaper. "Wait, what?" he asks thirty seconds later, looking up, startled.

Emily fights the urge to roll her eyes at him.

"You need to take Matteo to the office with you," she tells him again, pouring her coffee into the kitchen sink. "I'm meeting Sarah. You know what she thinks about children."

"I hope she knows what I think about her," Aaron states, before laying his newspaper aside.

"What's wrong with your coffee?"

Emily makes a face. "It tastes weird. Is it a different brand or something?"

"It's the one we always get," Aaron says, and takes a careful sip from his own cup. "It tastes normal to me." He gives her a worried look and Emily brushes it off instantly.

"I packed everything you need," she says, handing him a bag stuffed with diapers, bottles, baby formula and clean clothes. "You'll be fine until you get home tonight."

"You realize I have to work, right?"

"I thought Strauss's job mostly involved following a political agenda and threatening other agents ?" Emily says, her eyebrows raised mockingly. "At least that's what you told me."

"I'm not Strauss."

His stern expression makes her chuckle. "Stop looking at me like that," she soothes him with her hand on his shoulder. "I called Garcia, she's going to watch Matteo. I'm sure when you get there she'll be pacing the hallway anxious to take over."

"But I need Garcia to do her job."

"Yeah, but Garcia can do that with a baby in her office." Emily gives him a meaningful look, pushing her daughters' lunch boxes into their bright pink backpacks.

 _You were the one who talked me into having another one,_ she thinks, but she doesn't bother saying it out loud. It wouldn't get them anywhere.

"Maybe we should think about getting a nanny after all."

Emily turns around so fast the room starts spinning. "Are you serious?" She glares back at him, one hand on the kitchen counter to steady herself. "You're telling me that you want to hire a nanny so our children can turn out just as _fucked_ up as I am?"

"That's not what I said, Emily. And would you please keep your voice-"

"Mommy said the f-word," Talin giggles from where she's appeared in the doorframe all of a sudden. Aaron groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. Emily doesn't even blink.

"You're leaving in ten minutes, Talin. Go use the bathroom and tell Lacey too. Your father doesn't have time to stop on the way."

Her daughter gives her a sulky look, but turns and calls for her sister anyway. Emily takes a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. Aaron shakes his head.

"How come if you say something she does it, and every time I do she starts arguing until I don't even know what I wanted her to do in the first place?"

"You're just doing it wrong," Emily states, offering him an all-knowing smile and reaching for her jacket on the back of a kitchen chair.

"Don't forget to give Jack some money for lunch," she tells him, already heading for the door. "I'll be here when you get home tonight."

"Will you?"

It's the way he says it that makes her stop. She shuts her eyes, wishing, not for the first time, that she could turn back time.

"Will you ever stop wondering?" She can't help but ask.

"No," he answers, and it's impossible to ignore the sadness in his voice. "Never."

.

"Charlotte will be in DC for a conference in six weeks. If Spencer agrees, she's wiling to see him."

Emily takes a breath she didn't even knew she was holding. Dr. Charlotte Abbott was the best in her field, and one of the few people left on Emily's long list of experts she hadn't talked to yet.

"That's great news. Thank you, Clyde. I mean it."

He nods absently, pushing away his cup of coffee. "Where did you leave your little attachments today? I was almost looking forward to seeing them again."

Emily chuckles. "You improved your word choice; last time we talked you called them brats."

Clyde shrugs, looking undisturbed. "I admit they're quiet entertaining, but only because they're a lot like you, darling."

Emily can't help but smile. "The girls are in pre-school," she explains then. "And Matteo's at the office with Aaron. I had a meeting with Sarah this morning and she's worse than you when it comes to children."

"You're writing a new book?" Clyde asks, clearly surprised. "I thought you said you didn't need the money."

"I don't," Emily answers. "But Spencer does."

She watches Clyde nod, a look on his face she can't quite read.

"Emily, I know you don't want to hear his, but you shouldn't get your hopes up too much. From what I understand, Spencer should be glad he's even still alive."

"That's the thing, he isn't," Emily replies, her hand around her untouched cup of coffee. "He's locked himself up in that house at the end of the world, watching those god damn woods and it's all he's been doing for years now."

"But he's alive."

"I wouldn't call it alive."

The dizziness comes out of nowhere, making her grab the table for support.

"Are you alright?" Clyde asks, reaching for her intuitively. His voice heavy with concern. "Emily?"

"I just moved too fast," she murmurs, breathing in and out slowly, trying her best not to vomit right there on the table.

Cyde frowns, but says nothing further, and Emily's glad.

"Do you mind if we head out for a walk?" she asks, pointing weakly in the direction of the door. Longing for fresh air.

"Of course not," Clyde answers, already looking for the waitress to pay for their coffee.

.

* * *

 **.**

 **2006**

 **December**

 **.**

Curled up on her seat across the aisle with her eyes tightly shut and a look of horror written all over her pale face, Emily's having a nightmare. _It's painful to watch._

When she starts talking, mumbling something in her sleep, something that sounds awfully like _no, please no_ , Spencer can't take it any longer. He makes his way over, his fingers brushing against the back of her hand.

"Emily," he whispers quietly, trying to not wake up anyone else. "Emily."

She stirs and blinks, _once, twice_ , before she finally opens her eyes.

"Spencer?" she asks, utterly confused.

"You were having a nightmare," he states, feeling his cheeks flush. She blinks again.

"Right," she murmurs, sitting up straight and smoothing her dark hair down with a brush of her hand. Not sure what else to say or do, Spencer turns, about to head back to his own seat when Emily stops him with a hand around his wrist.

"Can you just sit here for a while?"

She looks so miserable that Spencer's totally taken aback.

"I just-" she starts and stops, pulls back her hand, and Spencer can't help but miss the feeling of her skin against his.

"You want to play chess?" he blurts out.

"Yeah," Emily breathes, smiles, her dark eyes meeting his. "I would really like that."

"I'll go get the board," Spencer states and turns.

It's just then that he catches Hotch's gaze from across the aisle, and if Spencer hadn't known any better, he'd have said Aaron Hotchner looked jealous.

.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

He feels himself blush the second the words have left his mouth. He's sitting next to her at a table at the bar, a glass of water in front of him, a glass of bourbon in her hand. It's not her first, and her eyes are glistening in the dim light.

"Why do you care?" she asks, unblinking, meeting his gaze.

For a moment he says nothing, allows his eyes to flick back to Hotch and Haley on the dance floor. Dancing. Kissing. _Looking disturbingly happy_. And not for the first time that night Spencer wishes he hadn't agreed to go out with the team.

"Are you jealous?" he finally dares to ask instead of answering her question.

Emily laughs. But it doesn't sound right. "Jealous about what? A _bloody_ ring?" She sounds calm, but her words are edged with ice.

"I thought every woman wants to get married?" Spencer frowns, thinking about statistics.

"I'm not every woman," Emily states, before downing her glass in one go and switching her empty one with Hotch's tumbler on the table. "Aaron just hasn't realized that yet," she adds a moment later, her eyes growing even darker when she meets Hotch's gaze from across the dance floor.

Spencer can't really argue with that.

.

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **February**

 **.**

"He's so adorable, isn't he?" Garcia declares for the umpteenth time, and Spencer can't help but laugh.

He's sitting in front of his computer, watching Garcia over the screen.

"If you're watching Matteo, where's Emily?" he asks. Briefly wondering if Emily was at the office too.

"She's meeting Sarah, her agent, you know the one who hates children?"

Spencer frowns. "Emily's writing a new book?"

Garcia shrugs, absently rocking the baby in her arms. "I didn't really listen after she told me I could watch Matteo. But Hotch was in a really bad mood when he got here, so I guess he's not happy about whatever it is she's planning."

Spencer nods thoughtfully, not sure what to think. Emily hadn't talked to him about writing yet another book.

He half listens to Garcia going on about how cute Matteo is and how sweet the twins are and what she'd bought for them on her last shopping trip, while Spencer searches his mind for any hints from Emily. Had she said something? _She must have, right?_

"Have you talked to JJ lately?"

Spencer blinks. "Sorry, what?"

"Have you talked to JJ lately?" Garcia repeats her question, watching him carefully.

Spencer thinks about lying, but there's no point. He shakes his head. "No, but I sent some presents for the kids."

"She just wants to see you, you know."

Spencer looks down at the table. He stays quiet.

"We all just-" Garcia starts, and as if on cue Matteo starts to scream. An angry wail, going from zero to one hundred in the blink of an eye. Garcia looks startled and Spencer grins.

"I guess he takes after Emily, too."

Garcia groans, already on her feet, reaching for the baby's diaper bag. "And here I'd hoped he would turn out a little bit more like Hotch."

"Not a chance," Spencer muses, raising his voice to be heard over the angry screaming.

"I gotta go," Garcia states. "Hotch was on edge about the baby at the office anyway."

"That's fine, we'll talk next week," Spencer says, and cuts the connection before Garcia can say another word.

He's always hated goodbyes.

.

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

Emily's crouched on the floor, blood staining her pants, broken glass cutting her skin, but she feels none of it.

Her hand is curled around Aaron's, her lips whispering prayers to a god she doesn't believe in.

He's awake, staring back at her. Eyes dark and wide, silently asking for things she can't promise. Tears blur her vision, words get stuck in her throat. She can't do this. _Not without him._

An hour ago she'd been yelling at him in the car. Accusing him of things he hadn't done. And she'd known, even back then. She'd just needed to blame someone. She still does.

Someone is saying her name, trying to get her attention, but she can't move, afraid that if she looks away, even if it's just for a second, he'll be gone.

She keeps praying, reciting verse after verse in every language she's fluent in, over and over again, until Aaron's eyes fall shut and she starts to scream. She's pulled back up to her feet, the moment paramedics come into sight. She's fighting, trying to pull herself free, yelling and begging. _She's a mess._ And it doesn't need actual words to confirm what most people at the office suspected for years.

There's a hand on her arm, cold fingers pulling up the sleeve of her jacket and she turns her head in time to find a paramedic, a shot ready in his hand.

She shakes her head wearily, a frantic laugh escaping her lips. _How had their morning turned into this?_

"I'm pregnant," she whispers. Her legs give way a heartbeat later, darkness consuming her.

.

She's sitting next to Aaron's hospital bed, her face buried in Jack's hair from where he's sitting on her lap. His nose red, his cheeks blotchy and wet with tears. He hasn't said a word, not a single one since Rossi had picked him up from school. And Emily isn't sure what to say either.

She hasn't seen Rossi or anyone else for a while now; they all just disappeared somewhere at some point and she was almost relieved. She couldn't stand their looks anymore. What was she supposed to say?

Garcia had tried to distract her by asking question after question: _Why didn't you tell us? How long has this been going on? You're going to have a child together?_

"Not one, two," Emily had whispered, shutting up everyone all at once, before she'd burst into a hysterical fit of laughter, laughing so hard she had to throw up.

She couldn't do this. Not without him. _She wouldn't._

"He's going to be alright," Emily whispers now, pulling Jack closer against her chest. Assuring not just the boy, but herself as well. "He's going to be alright."

But she knows it might be just another lie.

.

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**


	3. Part 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part III**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **February**

 **.**

"You took the offer without talking to me?"

Startled, Emily looks up from where she's sitting over Jack's homework at the kitchen table. Aaron's standing in the doorframe, regarding her with a disappointed look, a piece of paper in his hands. It takes Emily a moment to recognize it's not just a piece of paper, but the check Sarah had given her.

 _Great._

"Is there a specific reason you're rummaging through my things?" she asks, trying to keep her voice down despite the anger rising in her chest.

"I was looking for your keys to put the stroller back in your car, but instead-" Aaron shakes his head. "Why didn't you talk to me first?"

Emily lowers her pen. "I didn't realize I had to ask for your permission."

"That's not what I meant."

He looks hurt and Emily feels a pang of guilt. He's right, after all. She should have talked to him first. But in the end it wouldn't have made much of a difference. She'd still have accepted the offer and he would still have been angry about it.

"Let's not makes this any more than it is, Aaron. We're just talking about a book."

"A book you said you wouldn't do."

"Have you looked at the check? It would be insane to decline an offer like this."

"We don't need the money, Emily. And judging by the college saving accounts your mother set up for the kids, they won't need the money either."

At first Emily's sure she heard him wrong, but the seriousness in his eyes tells her she hasn't. "How long have you known?" she asks, forcing herself to hold his gaze. "Did my mother tell you?"

"Since before Christmas, and in her defense she thought I knew. And why wouldn't I."

Emily shuts her eyes, unable to look at him any longer. "Spencer doesn't know," she half whispers, hating the way her voice quivers.

"No, of course not. He'd never allow you to do that if he'd known."

"It's the least I can do, Aaron," Emily answers, massaging her temples against the oncoming headache. "He needs the money. And it's my fault after all."

"You need to stop doing this."

"Why would I, Aaron? It's my _fucking_ fault, I can't just pretend differently."

"No, Emily! It's not your fault, I told you. We all did! I looked through those reports a dozen times; it wasn't your fault! The roads were iced that night, if I'd been the one driving the car the same thing would have happened!"

 _No it wouldn't._

She stays quiet, staring down at Jack's homework, his sloppy handwriting blurring in front of her eyes.

"You can't torture yourself for something you're not responsible for. I know you say you're fine, but you're not, Emily. Even the kids notice. We can't go on like this anymore."

There's so much Emily wants to tell him, but she can't. _She promised._ And what good would it do now anyway.

"Emily."

The feeling of his fingertips against her skin makes her blink and she's surprised when she finds Aaron sitting across from her, his hand closing around hers.

"I know you don't want to talk about this, but I need to ask you. Would you have told me about what really happened in Colorado if I hadn't already known?"

Her first instinct is to pull back her hand, but Aaron just holds on tighter, his dark eyes searching hers for an answer.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" Emily all but whispers. "We agreed not to talk about this ever again!"

"Just answer me."

She shakes her head.

"Emily-"

"What does this have to do with anything?" she snaps, angry and suddenly desperate to get out of the room.

"Did you tell Spencer?"

"Stop it."

"You told me not to feel guilty for something I couldn't have-"

"Aaron, stop it!" Emily warns, her voice raised, her eyes burning with anger. "Just stop it!" This time she does pull her hand back, ignoring the pleading look in his eyes.

"You need to find a way to move on!"

 _I can't._

In her mind she's screaming. But the only sound in the kitchen comes from the baby monitor, a static noise followed by the angry cries of their son. Emily doesn't move.

"I'll get him," Aaron states quietly, his voice full of regret. Emily says nothing, keeps listening to his footsteps instead. When she hears his voice from over the baby monitor she gets up too. In the hallway she grabs her coat from the rack and her keys from the drawer, trying not to think, afraid she's going to lose it the moment she does.

"Where are you going?"

With her hand around the doorknob she stops, turning around to meet Aaron's startled expression. He's standing at the top of the stairs, Matteo in his arms. "Emily?"

"Don't stay up for me," is all she says, before she slips out of the door and into the night.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2007**

 **January**

 **.**

The first thing Spencer notices when he walks into the office at five thirty in the morning are the closed blinds in Hotch's office.

He's confused, but only for a moment until he catches a glimpse of Emily's bag next to her desk, exactly where it sat just yesterday.

She never left. _They never left._

He thinks about going back to his car, he came in too early after all, but before he can make up his mind, Emily emerges from Hotch's office. Their eyes meet the moment she does and there's a hint of surprise on her face before she gives him a smile.

"Morning, Spencer. You're early."

Her hair is tousled, her clothes wrinkled, and Spencer thinks he even spots a missing button on her blouse as she makes her way down the stairs and towards her desk.

Hotch steps out of his office only a moment after her, his clothes just as wrinkled as Emily's. The collar of his white button down stained with lipstick. He gives Spencer a nod before he walks past them with heavy strides, heading straight for the elevator and leaving an uncomfortable silence behind.

"You deserve better than this." The words sound odd in his own ears and Spencer wonders why it seems so impossible to keep his mouth shut when he's alone with her.

"You said that before," she answers tiredly, and he watches as she briefly checks her watch before settling down in her chair.

"Do you ever think about Haley?"

"What about her?" Emily murmurs absently, and Spencer frowns.

"She's his wife?"

He expected Emily to get angry, even furious maybe, but he didn't expect her to laugh.

"Do you really think Aaron could have kept this from her?" There's amusement glittering in her eyes when she turns to face him. "Haley knows, Spencer. She's known for years."

It's his turn to stare. This wasn't making any sense to him. "If she knows why would she-"

"Because I'm not posing a threat." It sounds like an apology.

"How can you not be a threat? You just said- wait." He blinks. "Years?"

Emily just shrugs, but Spencer notices the change in her demeanor right away. She seems embarrassed.

"He worked for your mother when you were in college," Spencer mumbles, remembering what he overheard Garcia telling JJ only a few days ago. "That's when you met. I hadn't thought that could also be when-"

"Have you ever been in love?"

Spencer feels his cheeks flush. He stops, swallows. "Have you?"

"No," Emily answers, her bottomless dark eyes holding his gaze. "I haven't."

It takes him a moment to understand what she just said. By the time he does, Emily has already turned her back to him.

 **.**

 **2007**

 **March**

 **.**

 _No. No. No._

Wide eyed, Spencer stares into his medicine cabinet. He put it in here. He knows. _It was right there._

But now it wasn't.

 _No. No. No._

"Looking for something?"

He looks up startled, meeting Emily's gaze in the mirror above the sink. She's leaning in the doorframe to his bathroom with her arms casually crossed in front of her chest and it takes him about thirty seconds to realize he has no idea what she's doing in his apartment or how she managed to get in without his permission.

Realization hits him only a minute later.

"Where is it?" he whispers, panic settling in the pit of his stomach. "Just tell me where it is!"

"It's gone, Spencer," Emily answers without as much as a blink, her dark eyes searching his in the mirror.

"What did you do?" he stammers, his hands gripping the sink so tightly it hurts. His knees threatening to give out from under him.

"I threw it away."

"You can't do that."

"But I already did."

He shakes his head, _once, twice_ , until the movement makes him dizzy and he has to stop.

"You can't do that," he says again, wishing he wouldn't sound so desperate. He steps forward, trying to get past her and out of the room, but Emily stops him with her hand around his wrist.

"Do you want to die?" she asks, and he can feel her grip tightening. "Tell me, Spencer, is that what you want?"

"Let go of me," he croaks, feeling like hell. "You don't understand!"

"No, Spencer. You're the one who doesn't understand." There's a detached coldness in her voice he didn't expect. He feels something pressed into his trembling hand, and when he looks down he finds a gun.

"Go ahead, Spencer," she whispers darkly, her breath warm against his cheek. "If that's what you want, if you want to throw away your life so badly, then do it right now. Do it right here."

He's too stunned to do anything but stare, his eyes fixed on the shiny metal. When he lifts his head, Emily's still looking at him.

"That's what I thought," she states quietly, her hand closing around his before pulling the gun away and out of his grasp.

"Just give it back to me," he begs her later _, hours, days, Spencer isn't sure,_ when he finds himself curled up on the cold tiles of his bathroom, feeling worse than he ever thought possible.

"It's not loaded," Emily tells him calmly from where she's sitting with her back against the open door, skimming through one of his books. "Yours isn't either, just in case you're wondering."

If he hadn't felt so horrible he might have laughed. He should have known.

"You'll thank me for it," Emily adds just a heartbeat later, all self-assured and forgiving. "Maybe not today. But someday you will."

"Why are you even here?" he croaks, his voice heavy with exhaustion. His eyelids threatening to fall shut. "Why do you even care?"

"Because if it were me," she answers after a brief pause. "I know you would too."

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **February**

 **.**

With an untouched glass of bourbon clutched between his hands, Aaron's sitting on the stairs, his eyes fixed on the front door.

By the time he'd gotten a blanket for Matteo and headed after Emily out into the night, she'd been long gone. Of course he'd tried calling her, but she'd left her phone in the kitchen.

Not that he could blame her. _He'd done it all wrong._

He rubs his eyes tiredly, wishing he knew how to fix this. There had to be a way. He knew what she thought about therapists, but maybe he could try talking her into seeing someone after all. Maybe...

 _As if._

He shakes his head at himself. She'd probably rather get divorced than agree to that.

The sound of keys turning in the lock makes him look up. It takes all his self control not to pull her into his arms the second she steps into the house.

She doesn't seem to surprised to find him sitting in the dark, only locks the door behind her before sitting down on the steps next to him.

"You can't tell him the truth," she states, her voice calm but firm. "Not about the money and not about Colorado. You have to promise me, Aaron. Promise me you won't ever tell him."

 _He can't._

But he does anyway.

"I promise," he murmurs, pushing away his guilt and handing her his glass. She takes it, but doesn't drink.

"How did you get your mother to start a college fund for Jack?" he asks then, reaching for her hand, relieved when she lets him intertwine his fingers with hers.

"I told her the truth," she explains softly, her dark eyes finding his. "That I love him just as much as I love the ones I've given birth to and since there's no difference between the kids, she either feels the same way about it or stays the hell away from all of us."

"You threatened your mother?" Aaron can't help but chuckle.

There's a faint smile on Emily's lips before she gets up to take off her coat. "I'm going to take a shower," she announces. "You can join me if you want to."

He gives her a couple of minutes before he follows her upstairs, taking a quick look into Matteo's crib to make sure the baby is still fast asleep before he slips into their adjoining bathroom.

There's so much steam that at first he can barely see anything, making clear that she must have turned on the water much too hot. But Aaron knows better than to argue anymore. He takes off his clothes as he goes, pulling her close against his chest the moment he steps into the shower stall. He enjoys the way she relaxes the moment he does.

"Do you have any idea how much I love you?"

Instead of giving him an actual answer, Emily turns around to kiss him, her dark eyes filled with a desperate need he's more than willing to satisfy.

Years of experience have them toppling over the edge together soon and it's not until then that Aaron finally understands what Emily _really_ wanted. Without a word he pulls her closer as she finally starts sobbing against his shoulder.

.

"We just want to see you, Spencer."

"But we are seeing each other, JJ."

"It's not the same, Spencer." She looks sad, so sad that he's afraid she's going to cry. "You haven't even held Michael yet." There's an accusation in her voice he can't stand. But she's right. He hadn't. _He never would._

"JJ-"

"What's so wrong with us that you don't want us to come by to visit you?"

"Nothing is wrong with you," Spencer tries to calm her, even though he knows it won't work. "It's not you, it's -"

"Emily comes out there at least once a week and so do the girls!" JJ cuts him off sharply, her cheeks burning with anger. "Henry doesn't understand why you want to see the twins but not him, and frankly Spencer, I don't understand it either!"

"JJ-" Spencer starts again and stops. Nothing would make this any better. Most certainly not the truth.

"Let it go, JJ," Will interferes from somewhere in the background, and Spencer feels the need to thank him. "It's the middle of the night, just come back to bed."

"No, I want an explanation! It's been years, I want-" The moment JJ turns to face her husband, Spencer cuts the connection by shutting off his laptop.

There was no point in trying. No matter how many times they would talk about this, JJ would never understand. And Spencer couldn't blame her. He probably wouldn't understand either. He would be hurt too.

When his phone starts to ring a moment later he ignores it. He would call her back tomorrow. Maybe.

He turns his head, his eyes looking over at the far wall of his living room where Emily had helped him pin up a dozen pictures and a few drawings from the kids. He kept them there, all of them. _They were his family._ They always would be. To him it didn't make a difference that they weren't really there. But maybe only because he'd been the one making that decision.

There was only one picture he didn't keep on the wall, only one he kept hidden in his desk drawer in his bedroom down the hall. It was a simple snapshot taken at the hospital a few hours after the twins had been born. Emily in a hospital bed with Lacey in her arms, Aaron sitting right next to her with Talin in his. Emily and Aaron were looking at each other, a smile on both of their faces. And the girls, oblivious to their parents delight, fast asleep, their tiny little hands clasped together, holding on to each other.

He still didn't know who took the picture or who sent it to him; he never asked Emily about it. But the moment he'd looked at it for the very first time, he'd known that no matter what had happened to him, no matter how difficult his life had become and no matter how much Emily still hated herself for it, he'd done the right thing after all.

He hadn't just saved her life, but everyone else's as well. Because if Emily had died that night, the world would have stopped turning for all of them.

Sometimes he just wishes he could tell them.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

With her hand carefully around Aaron's, Emily's sitting next to his hospital bed.

 _We're really sorry._

 _But you should prepare for the worst._

The doctors didn't think Aaron would make it through the night.

"We should call the others," Emily states. Her voice hoarse. "Someone needs to talk to Jessica, ask her if Jack-" she stops, fighting back tears.

"I called Rossi," Spencer tells her from where he's lingering right behind her. "He said he'll take care of everything."

Emily nods, her eyes flickering to the heart monitor and back to Aaron's pale face.

"It should be me in that hospital bed," she states quietly. "I was the one who shot that boy in Alabama, not Aaron."

Spencer stays quiet; he stopped arguing with her hours ago and Emily's glad. Nothing he could possibly say would change the truth. This wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for her. Even Haley would still be alive if Emily hadn't insisted on keeping that _damn_ relationship a secret.

She shuts her eyes, allows her tears to finally spill down her cheeks. Remembering the day she ran into Aaron for the first time. Drunk and high around four am when she stumbled into her mother's house, setting off the alarm and alerting not only a bunch of security, but also the whole neighborhood as well. A split second decision she would now regret for the rest of her life.

 _I can't do this._

"Do you think you could go get me some coffee?" she rasps hoarsely, brushing away the tears from her cheeks before she turns to look at Spencer.

"Coffee?" He looks nervous. "Do you really think-"

 _Of course_. Emily bites her lip. She isn't supposed to drink coffee anymore.

"Caffeine free?" she tries again, forcing an apologetic smile on her face.

Spencer nods. At the door he hesitates as if he isn't sure if he should leave her alone, but then he does anyway and Emily takes a breath she didn't know she was holding.

 _I'm sorry._

 _I'm so sorry._

With one last look at Aaron, she gets up. There are a million things she wants to say, but she's too afraid to hear them herself and so she says nothing at all. In the end it's probably better this way.

She leaves her coat on the back of her chair to buy herself some time and slips the car keys from Spencer's book back on her way to the door, glad he came straight from the office, driving not his private car but one of the SUVs. The Bureau would be able to afford another one easily.

She ignores the elevator and heads for the staircase instead, hoping to get as far away as possible before Spencer even notices that she's gone.

 **.**

* * *

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 **.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**


	4. Part 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**

 **AN:** **Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part IV**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **March**

 **.**

Emily wakes up screaming.

Reaching for the collar of her shirt she tries to sit up, already gasping for air. This hasn't happened in months and she's not prepared for it. But neither is Aaron.

She feels his movements next to her, wincing when he switches the light on and again when her eyes find his, the panic she feels all too visible in his eyes.

He helps her sit up, his hand hovering over hers, making sure to not actually touch her. His voice achingly soft, trying to calm her down and where a part of her loves him for doing just that, another part wants him to leave her the _fuck_ alone.

 _It's not his fault._

He keeps talking, worry growing in his voice, and out of the corner of her eyes Emily catches him reaching for his phone. She grabs his arm without thinking, helplessly trying to fill her lungs with air.

"Don't," she rasps, black dots dancing in front of her eyes. The last thing she wants is Aaron calling for an ambulance. It wouldn't make things any better. She shuts her eyes, starting to count backwards in her head.

 _999, 998, 997,..._

She tries to concentrate, but it's not working. Her chest hurts, her lungs burn and even when she tries to push them away she's stuck with the images from her nightmare.

 _996,995,994,..._

But it wasn't just a nightmare.

 _It happened._

She gets up without thinking. She hears Aaron's voice, but she can't make sense of his words, blindly stumbling in the direction of their en-suite bathroom.

 _993,992,991,..._

She pushes the door shut behind her, not bothering with her night clothes before she steps into the shower, fumbling with the tap until ice cold water hits her skin.

.

"You need to bring the girls next week," Spencer states with a sigh, looking down at the sleeping baby in his arms. "Matteo clearly isn't interested in spending time with me."

Emily chuckles. "Don't blame him, thanks to Dave's choice of music, he was awake the whole car ride." She gives him a meaningful look from where she's sitting next to him on the porch, a cup of tea between her hands.

"Operas again?"

"Unfortunately."

Spencer laughs, carefully adjusting Matteo in his arms. For a sixteen week old baby he was still small. But then, he'd been born almost four weeks too soon.

"I still need you to bring the girls next week; there's an experiment I really need to show them."

"They're in pre-school, Spencer, I can't just-"

"I'm certain I can teach them a lot more than they can," he cuts her off with raised brows and knows he has her the moment he sees her lips curl into a smile.

"What experiment are we talking about here?"

"Self made lava lamp," Spencer explains proudly. "We just need some sunflower oil, effervescent tablets, food dye..."

"That sounds like quite a mess." Emily makes a face, but Spencer just shrugs.

"It's my kitchen."

Emily laughs, giving him a slight shake of her head, before taking a sip from the cup between her hands.

"Tea again?" Spencer asks as casually as possible, knowing how much she hated any form of concern. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that something was awfully wrong. Instead of answering him, Emily shifts uncomfortably in her chair.

"I need to talk to you about something," she murmurs quietly, her trembling hands making Spencer frown.

"About what?" he asks, unease already forming in his stomach.

He watches Emily bite her lip, clearly avoiding his gaze.

"Clyde finally got a chance to talk to Dr. Abbott and she agreed to see you."

Spencer stops, startled. He definitely hadn't expected _that_. He turns his head away, staring into the trees.

"Emily, I told you-"

"I know. And I understand. But this time it could be really worth it."

 _No,_ Spencer thinks and swallows. _It won't._ There was no need for an expert from overseas.

"When?"

"She'll be in DC in a couple of weeks. If you agree to see her I-"

"Promise me it'll be the last one."

"Spencer-"

"Promise me, Emily." He turns back to her, his eyes meeting hers. The painful truth was that he would do anything for her. _Had done anything for her_. But he couldn't keep doing _this_. It was pointless. And it hurt too damn much.

"I promise," she answers, the sadness in her eyes speaking volumes. Spencer nods and for a while neither of them says anything anymore.

In the end it's Emily who moves first and Spencer watches as she puts down her tea, leaning closer to rest her head against his shoulder. He doesn't dare breathe when she reaches for his hand, watches their fingers tangle in awe. Her wedding band glittering in the sunlight like a warning.

"I'm so tired," she murmurs softly, and he knows she's not just talking about a lack of sleep.

"Sometimes I wish I could just stay here with you," she adds, her voice heavy with emotion, and Spencer has to close his eyes to fight against his own.

 _Me too, Emily. Me too._

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2007**

 **April**

 **.**

"I had dinner with my mother last night," Emily states out of the blue, making Spencer look up from where he's sitting next to her.

"Oh-" he starts and stops, not sure what else to say.

"I don't know what I expected," Emily continues, her eyes fixed on the road, her hands around the steering wheel at a careless angle. "I should have known better."

Spencer swallows, well aware that she's driving too fast.

"I guess a part of me hoped she had changed," Emily adds, and Spencer shuts his eyes, pretending not to have noticed that she just drove though a red light. "But people don't change."

There's the screeching sound of brakes on the concrete, followed by Emily cursing under her breath.

"Maybe you should turn on the siren," Spencer murmurs quietly, ignoring the fact that there was no need to hurry in the first place.

"I'm never going to have children," Emily continues as if she hasn't even heard him, her voice calm and sure, the car still speeding.

"Because you're afraid you'll turn out like your mother?" Spencer presses between clenched teeth, his hands holding onto the seat in a death grip. Praying they won't end up in the morgue too.

Emily chuckles. "Oh, Spence," she says, her eyes sparkling dangerously when she turns her head, facing him instead of the road. "I'm so much worse."

 **.**

 **2007**

 **May**

 **.**

They're sitting across from each other on the jet, a game of chess set up between them, Emily about to win. _Again._

Spencer keeps staring at the board, trying to will away the oncoming headache, unable to concentrate. From where he's sitting he can hear Hotch talking to Haley over the phone. And even though it's hushed, and really none of his business, he can't help but listen.

"It's your turn, Spence," Emily reminds him quietly, her fingers brushing against his when she reaches for her cup of coffee.

"Doesn't that bother you?" he can't help but ask and it's just then that Hotch walks past them, telling Haley _I love you, too_ before he ends the call.

"No," Emily answers, her eyes unblinking. "Why?"

"He's using you."

Emily shakes her head, her lips curling into a smile. "He's not the villain in this story."

Spencer scoffs. "Then who is?"

 **.**

 **2007**

 **June**

 **.**

It's a warm summer night in June when she shows up in front of his apartment, looking all stunning and beautiful in high heels and black silk and he knows he's _done_ the second he lays eyes on her.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" she asks all sweet and innocent, her eyes terrifyingly dark in the faint light. He steps aside without thinking, watches as Emily saunters into his apartment, a toxic smile on her cherry red lips and seduction in every step.

"What do you want?" he croaks, hating himself for sounding so pathetic.

"Answering your question," Emily replies calmly, turning around slowly to look at him. Before his mind can make sense of her words, her lips have found his.

He knows he should tell her to leave. Knows _this_ is not what he wants, even when he's been fantasizing about this from the moment she stepped into his life. But he wants more, more than _this,_ even when he'll never have it. And it doesn't even have anything to do with him, it's what she's been trying to tell him for months. For a split second he actually considers telling her to go, but then he doesn't.

It's not like it's ever really been an option.

The next morning, he wakes up alone with a note on his bedside table written in Emily's flawless handwriting. A note that sounds like an apology, even when he knows it's not. He's not surprised either; deep down he'd known it all along.

 _"I'm the villain, love."_

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **March**

 **.**

Emily's sitting at the kitchen table with her eyes closed, listening to the laughter coming from the living room, Garcia and the twins having fun playing some board game.

Emily'd known she would show up the moment Aaron had called to tell her he wouldn't make it home for dinner. After last night's event she couldn't blame him for being worried, but she was annoyed anyway. Mostly because where it was easy to fake a smile for the kids it was impossible to trick Garcia. It was the reason why Emily headed for the kitchen the first chance she got. She'd wanted to start making dinner, but the mere thought of food was making her sick and she hadn't even managed to make it to the fridge.

"Emily?"

With a start Emily opens her eyes, only to find Jack in the doorframe to the kitchen, a piece of paper in his hands. "I need you to sign this," he mumbles hesitantly.

Emily nods, pushing herself to smile. "Sure, what is it?" she asks, motioning for him to come closer, feeling too dizzy to get up herself. "You refused to do your homework?" she asks a moment later, scanning the note irritated.

"I offered to do something else," Jack answers, his eyes fixed on the floor. "But Mr. Parker wouldn't allow it."

Emily frowns. That didn't sound like Jack. "What were you supposed to do?" she asks, trying to catch his gaze. She watches his lips quiver.

"Do you have to tell Dad?"

"Jack-"

"It'll only make him sad," the boy answers, finally looking up to meet her eyes, and the moment he does, Emily knows.

"You were supposed to write something about your family," she states softly, the tears brimming in Jack's eyes making her heart ache.

"It doesn't mean I don't love you," he half whispers. "Or them." He points in the direction of the living room. "But," he stops, furiously wiping away his tears.

Emily swallows, reaching for a pen on the table and signing the note without a second thought. "I'll call your teacher. I'm sure we'll find a way to settle this without telling your father."

"Are you angry?" Jack asks quietly, when he takes back the note, worry written all over his face.

"No, Jack," Emily shakes her head, giving the boy a reassuring smile. "We talked about this, remember?"

They had.

 _A dozen times._

Jack nods and after a quick hug, almost too fast to even notice, he's already on his way out of the room, leaving Emily to look after him in silence.

Closing her eyes, Emily makes a mental note to call the school first thing tomorrow morning. Jack was right, there was no reason to drag Aaron into this. He had enough on his hands already.

"You need some help making dinner?"

Startled, Emily opens her eyes, tuning around in time to find Garcia coming over from the living room, Matteo squirming in her arms.

"No," Emily answers and hurries herself to get up. "It's fine. I'll just make spaghetti."

The room starts spinning without warning, forcing Emily to reach for the table as everything starts to blur in front of her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Garcia asks, clearly alarmed, and Emily wonders what Aaron had told her.

"Yeah, I just-" she swallows, trying to fight against the nausea, trying and failing.

She's faintly aware of Garcia calling after her, while she stumbles out of the kitchen and down the hallway, making it to the bathroom just in time.

When Garcia comes looking for her a few moments later, Matteo still squirming in her arms, Emily's sitting on the tiles with her back against the wall. Trying to pretend it's _nothing_ , trying to pretend she's fine even when she's obviously anything but.

Garcia stays quiet and Emily's glad. "I don't think I can make dinner," she admits quietly, before closing her eyes in defeat.

.

By the time Aaron comes home it's late, the house dark and quiet. Tired but hungry, he leaves his coat and briefcase in the hall, loosening his tie as he makes his way towards the kitchen.

He stops in the door, surprised to find Emily seated at the table, a coffee cup in between her hands.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asks, unsure how to approach. Last night's events still haunting him.

"You were right," Emily starts without hesitation, slowly looking up to meet his gaze. "We do need someone for the kids."

Aaron frowns, startled. "What are you saying?"

"I want you to hire a nanny," Emily informs him without as much as a blink, her hands tightening around the coffee cup.

"You want me to hire a nanny?" Aaron echoes, reaching for a chair to sit down next to her. "Are you sure? We've been talking about this for years."

Emily nods, but says nothing.

"Did something happen today?" Aaron asks carefully, even though neither Dave nor Garcia had mentioned anything. But of course that didn't mean...

"No," Emily shakes her head. "I just changed my mind." She gives him a halfhearted smile, and not for the first time Aaron notices how exhausted she looks. He knows there's something she's holding back, but he also knows better than to push her. Whatever it was, sooner or later he would find out. _One way or the other._

"Alright," he says, reaching for her cup out of habit, realizing too late it's not coffee, but tea. He makes a face at the taste.

"You could have warned me, you know."

Emily chuckles. "You should have asked."

Aaron watches her get up, her hand brushing against his. "There are leftovers in the fridge," she tells him quietly on her way out of the kitchen. "I'll try to get some sleep before Matteo wakes up again."

It's not until later, when Aaron's standing next to the microwave, waiting for his food to head up, that it hits him.

Emily never has tea. Unless-

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

The moment she opens the car door Spencer steps out of the shadows.

"Where are you going?" he asks, and for a moment her mind goes blank.

"I don't know," she answers bluntly, too exhausted to come up with a lie. "I just can't stand being here."

Spencer looks worried. "You should stay with him," he states slowly, his hands pushed down in his pants pockets, clearly uncomfortable. Unsure how to deal with this. Probably wishing someone else was there to talk to her.

Emily shakes her head. "I can't."

She slips behind the wheel as gracefully as possible and she's about to pull the door shut behind her when Spencer shoots forward, stopping her with his hand above hers.

"I can't let you go," he gives her an apologetic look. "Not alone. Not like this."

Emily blinks, surprised but also slightly annoyed. "I'm fine, Spencer. Now please let go." She tries to pull back her hand, but he's holding on tightly.

"You're not fine," he answers calmly, squeezing her hand just a little more. "How could you be?"

Emily bites her lip, fighting against the tears she doesn't want to shed. "Let me go," she starts again, knowing full well how desperate she sounds. _She is._

Spencer shakes his head but stays quiet, and Emily feels the need to scream. Instead she shuts her eyes, swallows.

"Get in the car then," she whispers hoarsely.

 **.**

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 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**


	5. Part 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, that really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part V**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **March**

 **.**

"Emily! Are you even listening?"

"To what?" Emily asks, briefly looking over her shoulder from where she's standing at the kitchen counter, making sandwiches for the girls.

"I've been talking to you for about ten minutes," Aaron states with a frown. He's sitting at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee to his right and a stack of applications to his left, watching her in disbelief.

Emily shakes her head. "I'm sorry," she says, turning back around to fill the girls' lunch boxes. "Just tell me again." She can feel his questioning stare, knows this certainly won't help ease his worries.

"I was talking about nannies. I have three on my short list, do you want to take a look?"

"No." Emily shakes her head once more, pushing first Talin's, than Lacey's lunch box in their backpacks. "Let Garcia run background checks, and if they come up clean have them meet with the kids."

"You don't want a say in this?" Aaron sounds startled.

"If I have a say in this we're not going to hire anyone."

"But you wanted-"

"Can't you just do this without me?" Emily snaps, putting her knife and plate into the dishwasher with too much force. Aaron becomes silent and Emily takes a breath. She regrets it immediately when a whiff of coffee makes her stomach flip. She shuts her eyes, reaching for the counter to keep herself upright. Praying Aaron won't notice. _No such luck._

"When was the last time you ate?" he asks, his voice gentle but firm, and Emily wishes he'd just let this go. Now isn't the time to have this conversation.

"Last night," she lies, listening to the girls making their way down the stairs. Arguing.

"No, you didn't," Aaron states, clearly not bothered by the noise from the hallway. "You kept pushing your food around your plate and threw it away the minute you thought I wasn't looking. Emily are you-"

"Mommy, I can't find my red shoes!" Talin whines on her way into the kitchen, a sulky look on her angelic face. "I need them!"

"You don't have a pair of red shoes, Talin."

"Of course I do, mommy! The ones with the flowers!"

"You outgrew them half a year ago," Emily murmurs tiredly, and gives her daughter an apologetic look. "I don't think we even have them anymore."

"We can wear the pink ones instead," Lacey chimes in, finally making her way into the kitchen herself, two pairs of bright pink shoes in her hands. "Look, Talin..."

"No," Talin stomps her feet, her dark eyes burning with rage. "I want the red ones!"

Emily rubs her temple. "Talin, please just-"

"No, I want the red ones, I want-"

"Alright, that's enough," Aaron cuts in from the table. "Sit down and eat your breakfast."

"But, daddy, I want-"

"Talin!"

"What's going on?" Jack asks, coming over from the living room with a book in his hands and a confused expression on his face, just when Talin begins to cry.

"Talin wants her red shoes back," Lacey starts to explain, as Aaron groans in frustration and Matteo, disturbed by all the fuss, who'd been peacefully sucking on his teething ring until now, starts screaming. His face all red, kicking his arms and legs with force, sending his baby-bouncer swinging.

From one second to the next Emily feels like she's drowning, _suffocating._

 _I can't do this._

 _It's too much._

She fumbles with the collar of her blouse, briefly closing her eyes. Trying to breathe, trying to pretend she's somewhere else, _far, far away and all by herself,_ but it's not working.

The room feels too small, _claustrophobic_ , just like their house. Their lives. The ring around her finger much too tight all of a sudden.

Someone is calling her name, Aaron, and Emily opens her eyes to find him standing right in front of her, Matteo squirming in his arms, still screaming.

Aaron is talking, his lips moving, but his words aren't making any sense and all she really wants is just a few seconds for herself.

 _You pushed me into living this life._

The thought comes out of nowhere, dark and heavy, and for a moment all she feels is regret.

 _I never wanted any of this._

Her eyes meet Aaron's and she can see it in his. The words she's never spoken out loud.

 _You knew, but you did it anyway._

She walks out of the room and out of the house, not looking back once.

.

"Come on, Emily, just answer the _damn_ phone," Aaron murmurs quietly, his cell pressed between his ear and his shoulder, all the while trying to keep Matteo from drooling on his suit.

He should have stayed at home.

Ending the call and leaving his cell on the top of his desk, Aaron takes a look at the clock. He couldn't wait much longer, and he had a feeling Emily wouldn't answer her phone anyway. He wasn't even sure she'd taken it with her. He hadn't even noticed she'd left until he heard her car pull out of the driveway.

Moving Matteo to a more comfortable position against his shoulder, he tucks the applications under his arm, reaches for Matteo's changing bag and makes his way out of his office and down the hallway to the elevator.

His office isn't on the same floor as Garcia's anymore and he has to hurry if he wants to be back in time for his meeting. He manages a few halfhearted smiles on his way, telling himself that they had to find a nanny as soon as possible. He couldn't keep bringing his son to work.

Garcia starts squealing with joy the moment Aaron steps into the room, her arms outstretched to take Matteo without a second thought.

"It's just for a few hours, Garcia, I promise. I have this meeting and..."

Garcia brushes him off with a shake of her head, brightly grinning at the drooling baby boy in her arms.

"Is he teething already?" she asks, clearly surprised, gesturing at the way Matteo sucks at his fingers.

"Yeah," Aaron answers absently, fighting back a groan when he spots the stain on his left shoulder. Great.

"If you have some spare time, would you run a background check on these three women," Aaron adds, almost apologetic, while placing the applications on Garcia's desk, next to Matteo's changing bag.

"Sure, what-" Garcia asks, and stops when she gets a look at what it is. "Which case are-"

"Not a case. We're looking for a nanny."

Garcia looks up, startled. "Does Emily know about this?"

"You think I'd do something like this without asking her for permission first?"

Garcia looks uneasy. "No, I'm just surprised. She always said-"

"I know," Aaron cuts her off. "But things change."

"I'll be back as soon as possible," he adds a moment later, already on his way to the door. Hoping to find someone he can borrow a suit jacket from.

"Is Emily alright?"

Garcia's question catches him off-guard and he stops, his hand already around the doorknob. He's tempted to make some excuse, to pretend it's all good. But he's tired.

 _I don't even know where she is._

 _Or if she's coming back._

"No," he answers, and shakes his head. "She isn't."

Garcia looks worried, even more than before, and Aaron feels guilty for being honest. But he doesn't have the luxury of being worried about that too.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2007**

 **August**

 **.**

"Does he know?"

"Know what?" Emily murmurs absently, lost in the files spread out on the table between them.

"About us."

"Us?" she echoes, lifting her head to look at him. She looks amused and Spencer feels embarrassed.

"You know what I mean."

She cocks her head. "You want me to tell him?" she prompts, curiosity in her eyes.

"No, I just...I just wondered..." Spencer stammers, not sure why he even asked. "Forget it," he murmurs a moment later, staring down at the crime scene pictures in front of him.

"It's none of his business," Emily states, her hand reaching for his. It's brief, but gentle. And so different from the way her hands usually…

Heat flames his cheeks and he shakes his head, trying to push the image out of his head. It was neither the time nor the place for thoughts like that.

"Isn't he jealous?" Spencer can't help but ask, even through he's afraid to hear the answer. Emily just gives him a smile.

"I don't belong to anyone."

 **.**

 **2007**

 **October**

 **.**

"Haley moved out," Emily states in the middle of breakfast, and Spencer almost chokes on his coffee.

"Excuse me?" he rasps, coughing.

Emily nods. "About a week ago. She took Jack with her."

Spencer blinks in surprise, watches as Emily leans back in her chair from where she's sitting across from him at the kitchen table. She's wearing one of his shirts, her hair falling into her face unkempt. A rare sight and just as unusual as the fact that she stayed for the night.

"Is this…"

"About me?" Emily chuckles, her dark eyes glistening in the sunlight that's falling through the window. "No," she answers, certainty heavy in her voice. "It's not."

Spencer feels himself blush. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," Emily adds, almost too quite to hear.

 **.**

 **2007**

 **December**

 **.**

"Haley is filing for divorce," Emily mutters for what feels the hundredth time that night, her movements unsteady, her voice all slurred.

She's not just drunk, she's completely wasted and Spencer has no idea what to do. He's never seen her like this.

They're still at the bar, the others long gone, and Spencer wishes he could leave too. But he can't, not as long as she refuses to let him take her home.

"Why is she doing this?" Emily mumbles, more to herself than anyone else, reaching for the drink she ordered a while ago.

"I think you've had more than enough," Spencer murmurs tiredly, but despite the state she's in she's still faster than him.

"You don't get to tell me what to do," she slurs stubbornly, tossing back yet another drink.

Spencer shakes his head. "You're going to regret this tomorrow."

Emily laughs, a coldness in her eyes that makes him flinch. "I'm starting to regret a lot of things."

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **March**

 **.**

"Emily! Thank god!"

She's barely made it through the front door when Aaron pulls her into a tight hug.

It's almost midnight, the house plunged into silence, except for the sound of the TV in the living room.

"Are you alright?" Aaron asks when he steps back, cupping her face in his hands. There's nothing but worry, nothing but understanding written in his dark eyes.

Emily nods, swallows. Wishes he'd just yell at her. He doesn't.

"We were worried," he states quietly, not the slightest hint of accusation in his voice. "Where have you been all day?"

 _Nowhere_ , Emily thinks, but says nothing. She slips out of her coat and her shoes, leaves them in the hallway and makes her way into the living room, her eyes fixed on the TV screen as she sits down on the couch.

"Do you need something?" Aaron asks from where he's hovering somewhere behind. "We had pizza for dinner, but I can make you something else. Maybe some toast or-"

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat something."

Emily shakes her head, one hand gently resting on her flat stomach. There's nothing to feel. Not yet. But there would be soon. _Too soon._

"I'm sorry," she breathes, not sure what exactly she's apologizing for. There are a lot of things she should feel sorry about.

"I'm not mad at you, Emily," Aaron reaches for her hand as he sits down next to her. "I was just worried."

"I know. Are the kids alright?"

"I told them you had an appointment, it's all good."

It's not. _Not even close_. But she can't tell him that. He wouldn't understand. She's not even sure she understands it herself.

"Emily, are you pregnant again?"

There's no point denying it any longer. She nods, wonders how long he's suspected something.

"Have you seen your doctor yet?"

"Yeah," she answers, thinking about the ultra sound picture at the bottom of her purse. According to her doctor everything looked good, even though it would have been healthier to wait at least a year before getting pregnant again. Not that Emily would have wanted that in the first place.

They'd agreed, even before Matteo had been born, that they wouldn't have any more children. It had been the only reason Emily'd gone to see her doctor in the first place. To discuss her options. Just a little too late.

"I don't know if I can do this, Aaron," she finally whispers, hating herself for it and even more for what she's about to say next. "I don't know if I even want to."

He's quiet, but only for moment. "What are you trying to say?"

"I don't know." And she doesn't. Not really. It's too complicated.

There's still time, but she knows that if she wanted to have an abortion she'd have done it by now. But even though she's sure she doesn't want to do that, she isn't sure if she can go though another pregnancy or if she wanted to have yet another child when she'd never wanted to have any at all to begin with.

"Well at least this time we know exactly when it happened."

Emily blinks. It's Aaron who starts to laugh first, and despite the seriousness of the situation Emily can't help but laugh too, remembering that day all too well.

They were both equally responsible for the embarrassing encounter in the laundry room a few weeks back. They'd acted like horny teenagers. They should have known better.

 _Haven't you learned a bloody thing?_

Now they had to pay the price.

"We'll figure this out," Aaron tells her soothingly, his fingers folding over hers. "We always have." He gives her a reassuring smile and Emily feels the need to look away.

 _Have we? she wonders silently._

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

"Where are we going?" Spencer asks once again, and it takes Emily all her self-control to stay quiet.

"Emily."

She keeps her eyes on the road and her hands around the wheel, making sure she's not crossing the speed limit. It's dark, the roads iced, and she can't take the risk. Not with Spencer in the car.

She knows where she's headed, but she doesn't think about telling Spencer. She needs to get him to leave though, soon and as far away from her as possible.

She just wishes she'd thought of it years ago.

"Please talk to me."

She's always loved talking to him, but now she doesn't dare utter a word. Afraid he'll know. Afraid he'll stop her. She doesn't want to be stopped.

"Emily."

She bites her lip, fighting against the words trying to get free. It wouldn't make this any less painful. For either of them. In the end apologies are just words.

 **.**

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 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to their rightful owners.**


	6. Part 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, it really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

 **Part of the line about Aaron being unavailable isn't mine, I just borrowed it. It was originally used in a conversation between Liv and Mellie talking about Fitz (Scandal 5x11).**

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 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

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 **.**

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 **Part VI**

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 **2016**

 **April**

 **.**

"Tell me again, when are you going to hire a nanny?" Sarah asks, waiting for Emily when she steps out of the elevator.

Emily rolls her eyes, trying to contain the struggling baby boy in her arms while she follows Sarah down the hallway into her office.

"You and Clyde," she murmurs, "You two would be the perfect match."

Sarah chuckles, closing the door behind her and motioning for Emily to sit down. "Maybe. But I remember a time you were the perfect match for him, too."

Emily rolls her eyes once more, but says nothing, not in the mood for a game of play pretend.

"Why did you call anyway?" she asks instead, moving Matteo to a different position to stop him from kicking his legs into her stomach.

"Why don't you sit down first?"

Emily frowns. "What happened?"

"Nothing you need to be worried about."

"Then why do you want me to sit down?"

Sarah groans. "Alright," she murmurs, reaching for the folder in front of her. "Frank asked me to offer you a new deal. If you're not going to do it, which you probably won't, he wants you to know that he already has someone else on his short list."

"What are you talking about?" Emily asks, reaching over to take the folder from Sarah with her free hand. "I just signed-" she stops, her eyes on the paper. "No," she says, already shaking her head. "I told you, more than once, Sarah." She swallows, suddenly wishing she'd just sat down when Sarah told her to.

"If you won't, someone else will. And you know how these things go. If someone starts digging..."

"Then I'll sue him."

"Sure, but we both know once it's out there it's already too late."

"I'm not going to do this, Sarah! I can't. I promised."

"It's your best chance on telling your version. It would be the best for all of you. If it sells, and believe me it will, then no one will care if someone else comes forward afterwards to tell a different story. Even when it's the truth."

"No, Sarah. I really can't."

Sarah sighs. "Maybe you should take a look at the check first."

Emily shakes her head, but starts looking through the papers anyway. "It can't be enough money to...are you serious?" Emily frowns, her eyes fixed on the payment check at the back of the folder. _This can't be right._ But the serious look on Sarah's face tells her it is.

"Frank told me he's willing to pay twice as much since you're able to get it done in less than a year."

Emily takes a breath, already hating herself for considering the option. "What about the other one?"

"Put it aside for while. Serial killers sell much better than any cult anyway."

"This could be the end of my marriage," Emily states, and wishes it didn't make her feel the way it does.

Sarah gives a slight shrug. "Do you really care about that?"

"We have children, Sarah. Of course I do."

"But is that enough? Don't forget I was there when you two met. You had him falling for you in the blink of an eye. To you it was just game, but to him..."

Emily shakes her head wearily. "I'm not that girl anymore, Sarah."

"Are you sure? Tell me, how many times did you think about leaving? About running as far away as possible and never coming back? And I'm not talking about the last twenty-three years, I'm talking about today."

"Not once," Emily lies, wondering who she's even trying to convince, when she knows the truth has been written in her eyes for far too long now.

Sarah just raises her brows and Emily feels the sudden need to strangle her.

"I hate you, you know," she finally snaps, and Sarah chuckles.

"I know, Em, and I can live with that. But can you keep on living this lie?"

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2008**

 **April**

 **.**

They're fighting, and Spencer's the unlucky team member who got stuck with them in a car.

He's sitting in the back with a book in his hands, trying not to listen to their bickering. Emily's driving and that's disturbing enough because in all the years Spencer's been working at the BAU he's never seen Hotch take the passenger seat.

"What on earth were you thinking?"

"I was trying to save that girl!"

"It was reckless, Emily! Do you have any idea-"

"Why don't you just tell me what your _fucking_ problem is?"

"What my- _damn_ it, Emily! Would you please look at the road!"

"Scared, huh?"

It's the challenging tone in Emily's voice that makes Spencer look up from his book, just in time to see the car swerve onto the wrong side of the road.

Hotch starts to curse, yelling at Emily to put her hands back down on the wheel, while Spencer's eyes grow wide in horror as he watches a truck speed closer.

 _We're all going to die._

The book slips from his shaking hands a second later when Hotch reaches for the steering wheel and the car spins to its right, followed by the sound of blaring horns and screeching tires.

"Stop the _damn_ car, Emily!" Hotch yells once more, his voice strained, his gaze almost frantic.

Their SUV skids over gravel and when it finally comes to a stop at the side of the road, Spencer releases a breath he didn't know he was holding.

It's silent for a long time until Emily finally pulls the keys form the ignition.

"What would I do without you, love," she chuckles softly, before handing the car keys over to Hotch without as much as a blink.

 **.**

 **2008**

 **June**

 **.**

It's been a year and Spencer can't stop wondering what that means. Or more importantly, _if it means_ _anything_ _at all._

There are moments he's sure it does, precious moments between the two of them where there is no need to say a single word to understand the other. But then there are days where's she's barely even looking in his direction, days where she's somewhere entirely else, somewhere he just can't reach her.

It's those days he hates most, those days where he has to accept that whatever _they_ have, it's not the same as what Emily shares with Hotch.

Sometimes Spencer is watching them from afar, watching the way they move around each other with ease even when they're in the middle of a fight. And he can't help but be jealous of the way they fit together _just right_ even when they don't.

"How did it start?" he asks her one morning. She's sitting at her desk across from him, bent over a stack of folders.

"He was working for my mother," she murmurs without looking up, her face hidden by a curtain of dark silk hair.

"I know," he says, sitting up straight. "But how did it start?"

Emily sighs, her eyes finally meeting his. "It's a different story depending on who you ask."

"I'm asking you."

Emily shakes her head and Spencer watches as she gets to her feet. She takes two steps in the direction of the kitchenette, before she stops. When she turns back to look at him once more, he finds nothing but sorrow.

"He saved my life," she answers, her voice calm and composed despite the pain in her eyes. "And I ruined his."

 **.**

 **2008**

 **July**

 **.**

It's raining for the first time in weeks.

They're lying next to each other in his bed, watching the curtains dance in the wind of the open window. The fresh night air a relief after weeks of unbearable heat and as much needed as this moment of peace.

Something has changed, even when he can't tell what it is. Something's different; she is, ever since Hotch took off his wedding band. He's not sure what he expected, but certainly not a turn for the worse.

When she slips out of his bed, he's not surprised. He knew she'd leave, but he hoped she wouldn't anyway.

He watches in silence while she gets dressed in the dark, feeling alone already.

"You've changed," he states all of a sudden, even though he knows he's going to regret it. But she's leaving anyway and he's angry and hurt and for once he wants to hurt her too. _Wants to know if he even can._

"I always thought once he got divorced you two would-"

"Live happily ever after?" Emily cuts him off with a laugh. "Don't tell me you haven't figured it out by now?"

Spencer frowns. "Figured out what?"

Emily stills, and for a long time there's nothing but the sound of the rain.

"Haley was the only reason this ever worked in the first place, Spence. With Haley around, I didn't have to ... " her voice trails off and Spencer watches her eyes close.

"I was fine being his mistress," she adds quietly. "I never thought about being anything else. Haley was my out. She kept him unavailable."

Spencer swallows. "And now he's not."

Emily nods, a wistful smile on her lips. "And now he's not."

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **April**

 **.**

When the doorbell rings Emily's in the nursery, changing Matteo's diaper. She knows it's JJ at the front door, has seen her car pull into the driveway from the window next to the changing table. The need to call downstairs for Jack to keep the door locked is overwhelming, but of course she doesn't.

By the time Emily lifts Matteo back into her arms, JJ's already standing in the open door.

"Hey," she states, a happy smile on her lips and a cardboard box in her hands. "I brought you some of Michael's clothes; they've become all one size too small."

Emily nods and pushes herself to smile. "Aaron mentioned something. Thank you."

"You're welcome," JJ says, leaving the box on the floor and making her way over to Emily, her eyes already fixed on Matteo. "Hey, little one," she murmurs softly, her hand reaching for the boy's.

"You want to hold him?" Emily asks, already handing her son over.

"Can I?" The smile on JJ's face grows, just like Matteo's, and Emily feels the need to leave the room immediately.

"I'll go and make us some coffee," she states, not waiting for JJ's answer.

On her way to the kitchen she casts a quick glance to the living room, relieved to find Jack and the girls still bent over a board game.

She starts the coffee machine first, before opening the kitchen cabinet to get two mugs. She doesn't actually plan on drinking a cup of coffee herself, but making only one for JJ would only raise suspicion.

"Are you alright?"

Emily blinks and turns, finding JJ in the kitchen doorframe, not bothered by the fact that Matteo's drooling all over her jacket and tugging at her long blonde hair, a satisfied grin on his little face.

"Just tired," Emily hurries herself to answer, and regrets it instantly when she spots JJ's puzzled face.

"Matteo's still not sleeping through the night?" she asks, and Emily wishes she'd come up with something better, not in the mood for parenting advice.

"Why are you really here, JJ? We both know this isn't about clothes."

"When was the last time you talked to Spencer?" JJ asks after a pause, and Emily tries her best not to be annoyed.

"Why?"

"I'm worried. We had a disagreement and now he won't answer any of my calls."

"I know."

JJ frowns. "He told you about it?"

"Does it matter?" Emily asks, leaning back against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I just want to see him."

Emily takes a breath, shrugs. "I can't help you with that. I tried, more than once. I even offered to bring just Henry and Michael, but-" she stops, absently rubbing her temple. "Give him some time, maybe."

JJ scoffs. "How much time does he need? Another five years?"

"JJ..."

"No, Emily. This is ridiculous! You drive out there once a week and it's all good but he doesn't want to see anyone else? How am I supposed to understand that?"

"It's his decision, not mine. Ask him."

"What do you think I did? He won't answer me, he doesn't even try to explain it!"

"I don't know what to tell you."

"How about the truth, Emily? What's so different between you and me? Why won't he see anyone else but you? I know he's been in love with you since the moment you met, but-"

"Are you jealous?" Emily stares, stunned and on the verge of losing it. "You have no idea what the _fuck_ you're even talking about."

"Why don't you tell me, then?" JJ snaps. "You're keeping something from me, from all of us. You and Spencer, there's something the two of you aren't saying and I want to know what it is."

Emily shakes her head. Annoyed and angry and tired. _And sick of all of them._ "Those visits you are so jealous about are nothing but a punishment, JJ! A painful reminder of how _fucked up_ our lives are!"

JJ looks confused. _Of course she is_. She doesn't know the truth. _She never will._

 _And I already said too much._

"Punishment? What are you talking about, Emily? The accident wasn't your fault!"

Emily shuts her eyes, wishing JJ would just stop talking.

"You don't get it-" Emily starts and stops. There was no point having the same awful conversation all over again. "I think you should go," she states a moment later, already stepping forward to take Matteo back.

"Emily-" JJ starts, looking more confused than ever, but Emily knows this will only turn worse. _It always does._

"Just go, JJ. Please, just go."

.

When Aaron comes home he finds Jack and the twins in the living room. Jack's eyes fixed on the gaming console in his hands and the girls' eyes glued to the TV-screen.

For a moment he's too startled to say something. They don't have a lot of rules, but the one he and Emily agreed on was no electronics on school days.

"Emily made an exception," Jack mumbles, not looking up once. "She said as long as I watch my siblings I can play."

"But you're not watching your siblings, Jack," Aaron states tiredly, stepping forward to switch off the TV and take the Nintendo out of Jack's hands.

"That's not fair!" Jack protests, and Talin chimes in from where she's sitting on the carpet. "Mommy said it we could watch TV until it's bedtime!"

"Where is she?" Aaron asks, starting to get worried. That wasn't like her. "And where's your brother?"

"Matteo is sleeping and Emily said she had to work," his son tells him with a shrug. "Can I have my Nintendo back now? Emily promised, just go and ask her yourself!"

For a moment Aaron's tempted to give in, too exhausted and just not in the mood to argue. But then he doesn't.

"You know the rules, Jack."

"But Emily said-

"He's right Daddy, Mommy said-"

This time it's Lacey coming to her siblings aid, but Aaron just shakes his head once more. "No exceptions," he states and adds, pointing at the toys littering the living room floor: "Please put your toys back where they belong. I'll be right back."

Their protests follows him all the way up to the first floor, but Aaron ignores it, his thoughts already elsewhere. He glances into the master bedroom to check on Matteo, before he makes his way further upstairs.

"Hey," Emily greets him the moment he stops in the doorframe to her study on the second floor. "How was your day?"

She's seated behind her desk, her eyes fixed on her computer, her fingers tapping away effortlessly.

"I could ask you the same," Aaron murmurs, trying to contain his anger as well as his worry. "Do you care to tell me why the girls are sitting in front of the TV? And since when is Jack allowed to play with his Nintendo on a school night? I thought we-"

"There are worse things than that, Aaron," Emily answers, briefly meeting his gaze. "Making an exception from time to time doesn't hurt."

"Excuse me?" Aaron frowns, not sure if he heard her right. "You were the one who insisted-"

"Well, I just changed my mind," Emily shrugs, her eyes back on her computer, clearly done with this conversation for now. "There are leftovers in the fridge in case you're hungry," she adds. "I'll join you in a moment."

.

The second Aaron's gone, tears start to build in Emily's eyes.

She tells herself it's nothing but hormones, the _damn pregnancy_ already messing with her head, but she knows it's not that.

Tears start spilling down her cheeks, and she presses one hand against her mouth to stifle her sobs, willing herself to be quiet. Praying Aaron and the kids won't hear her.

Whether she'd like to admit it or not, at the end of the day, Sarah was right.

 _It's not enough._

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

"Get out."

"Here?" Spencer frowns. "We're in the middle of nowhere, Emily!"

"Get out," Emily states again, this time a little bit more forceful, her eyes fixed on the empty street in front of her.

"But there's nothing here, Emily? What do we-"

"Get out, Spencer!" This time she turns, bending over to open the door for him. "Just get out!"

He looks lost and Emily wishes that would make her feel something. But it doesn't.

"Emily-"

"Please, Spencer. Just get out." This time her voice is barely above a whisper, her words one last plea.

He hesitates and for one moment she's sure he'll listen, but then he shakes his head, pulling the door shut.

"No," he states. "I won't."

"Spencer-"

"No, Emily. I won't leave this car. Not without you."

 _As you wish._

And with tears blurring her vision Emily hits the accelerator full force.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

 **AN: If you'd like to read more about this universe, you should take a look at "The Blue Skies We Wait On", all snippets posted there are connected to this story. Some things will make more sense with those snippets.**


	7. Part 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, it really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

 **Warning: dark &twisty **

* * *

**.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part VII**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **April**

.

"And you're sure you don't want to have a say in this?"

"I am."

"I don't feel comfortable hiring someone for the kids by myself, Emily. It's a really important decision and I don't think I should make it alone."

"I know."

"But you still don't want to meet her first?"

"No."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Aaron shuts his eyes and tells himself to stay calm. This wasn't going anywhere, not that he thought he could change her mind anyway.

He takes a breath, looking back up to meet Emily's gaze, but she's looking out the kitchen window instead, obviously elsewhere with her thoughts.

For a moment he leans back in his chair, watching her in silence. He needed to believe that it was just the unplanned pregnancy, _hormones,_ but deep down he knew it wasn't. This was something else, something he wasn't sure he was able to fix.

"Do you want me to leave Matteo at home then?" he asks, getting up to put his empty cup into the dishwasher.

"No." Emily shakes her head and he's surprised she even heard him. "I'm going to meet up with Frank and Sarah while you're gone; they want to take a look at the first few chapters."

Aaron frowns. "You got that much done already?"

"Of course I did. It's not like I have to come up with anything myself. I was there."

 _I know,_ he thinks and shuts the dishwasher with more force than necessary.

"I'd really prefer it if you came with us, Emily," Aaron tries, against his better judgment. "I'm sure Frank and Sarah can wait."

"No."

"Emily-"

"You don't need me for this, Aaron." She offers him a smile, before taking a step towards him to give him a kiss. "I trust you," she breathes against his lips, her hand brushing his cheek.

He wants to say something, but Emily shuts him up with another kiss, a real kiss this time, _all teeth and tongue,_ and it's become such a rare thing that he gives in without a second thought. They stumble out of the kitchen and down the hallway, never letting go of each other all the way to the laundry room. He has the door locked and Emily pushed up on the washing machine in a heartbeat, knowing all too well that any second their moment could be interrupted by one of the kids.

It's Emily who's fumbling with his zipper and her skirt and he briefly wonders why she's wearing one in the first place, _doesn't remember the last time she did,_ but then she's pulling him closer with her legs around his back and then he isn't sure what he was wondering about a second ago.

It's over far too soon, making Aaron feel like some teenage boy instead of a grown up man.

"I'm sorry," he chuckles against her ear, slightly embarrassed. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." He's about to slip his hand between her legs when she makes him stop. Her hand curled around his wrist, gentle but firm.

"Emily-" he starts and frowns, trying to pull back to get a look at her eyes. But Emily holds him there, her legs still locked around his back.

"You know that I love you, right?" she murmurs quietly, her voice alarmingly calm and not fitting the sudden change in her behavior.

"Of course I do. What's going on, Emily? You're scaring me."

She stays quiet, her face hidden against the fabric of his button down, and because he has no idea what else to do he pulls her closer.

But even then, it feels like she's already left.

 **.**

The drive is pleasantly quiet. Two and a half hours without having to say a single word.

Emily doesn't remember the last time she went to see Spencer all by herself and she wonders if she ever had. Probably not.

The cloudy morning has turned into a bright day, with the sun high up in a clear blue sky. The air is eerily warm and filled with the promise of an early summer. If the weather kept its peace the world would explode into greens in less than a week.

With snow and ice all gone, Emily doesn't stop at the edge of the small path but drives her SUV all the way up to the house, making a mental note to make a stop at the car wash on her way home. A mud-speckled car would be hard to explain. She also had to remember to change back into the formal business outfit she'd been wearing this morning, otherwise Aaron would know that she'd lied to him.

By the time Emily gets out of her car, Spencer's already waiting for her on the front porch, surprise written all over his face.

"I thought you said you wouldn't be able to make it this week?" he states, puzzled but smiling.

"A sudden change of plans," Emily explains, before she makes her way over and bends down to give him a kiss on the cheek.

 **.**

Hours later they're still seated on the porch, Spencer's chessboard set up on the table between them. She's lost two games already, mostly on purpose, and even though she's sure Spencer very well knows it, he hasn't said a word.

She lets him win the third game too, before she meets his gaze from over the table without as much as a blink.

"I need to talk to you."

He doesn't look surprised and why should he, she gave herself away the moment she pulled into the driveway on a Saturday.

"It's about JJ, isn't it," Spencer states, spinning his wheelchair around to look out into the trees.

"Yes," Emily answers without missing a beat. "I want you to call and ask her to come by and visit with Henry and Michael."

"Why now?"

"Because it's time, Spencer."

It gets silent and Emily waits, offering him some time to think.

"You're pregnant again."

He's not asking her a question and _of course_ he already knew.

Emily nods, even though he's still sitting with his back turned towards her.

"It wasn't supposed to happen," she states unnecessarily. "But I'm already feeling worse than I did the last time and I'm not sure how long I'll be able to come here to visit. It's a long drive and Aaron has been on edge for weeks now. After what happened the last time, it'll only get worse. I just want to make sure you won't be out here all by yourself over the next few months. I need to know that you're not alone."

"I'm not alone, Emily."

"I'm not talking about the people I pay to come here, Spencer. I'm talking about your friends, your family. And I know you don't want them to see you like this and I understand that better than anyone else, but they're family, Spencer, and isn't that what family is all about? In the end they need you just as much as you need them."

"You can't make me call her."

"No," Emily admits, looking down at her hands. "I can't."

 _But I have to._

"Please think about it," she adds, and bends forward to reach for his hand. It feels wrong to manipulate him like _t_ _his_ and she knows it, but it's all she can think of at the moment. The only way to take care of it as fast as possible.

Interlacing his fingers with hers, Spencer nods. Giving her the answer she knew he would.

"Alright."

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2008**

 **August**

 **.**

They're on their way to a crime scene when Hotch asks him out of nowhere: "How long have you been sleeping with her?"

Spencer's first reaction is to throw himself out the car. His second to take a breath and talk.

"Excuse me?" he rasps, hating how guilty he sounds. After all, he hasn't done anything wrong.

"How long have you been sleeping with Emily," Hotch asks once more, his voice calm but firm, his face unreadable.

Spencer thinks about lying, but he's never been good at that. And besides, what was the point when he knew anyway?

"A year," he finally manages, almost choking on his words. Out of the corner of his eye he notices Hotch's grip tightening on the wheel.

"Do you love her?" Hotch asks, his eyes on the road, unblinking.

Spencer swallows, but instead of giving an answer, he just asks: "Do you?"

 **.**

 **2008**

 **September**

 **.**

When she shows up at his front door with a blindfold in her hand and a smile on her lips, Spencer expects the worst.

 _She's Emily after all._

But she just wants to know if he trusts her, and of course he does, and so without thinking twice he takes the passenger seat of her car and allows her to tie the blindfold over his eyes.

They drive for some time, two and a half hours if he had to guess, asphalt turning to gravel and mud.

"You're not going to abandon me in the woods, are you?" he asks, only half joking.

"Not exactly," Emily answers, and he can hear the laughter in her voice.

When the car comes to a stop and Emily opens the door to help him out, he's greeted with nothing but an eerie silence, a lonely owl howling somewhere to his right.

"Where are we?" he asks, reaching for the blindfold. He has to blink a couple of times until his sight clears and he spots the house illuminated by the headlights of the car, a small, picture-perfect two story home, surrounded by nothing but trees.

Similar to Gideon's but so very different.

"It's beautiful here," Spencer states, turning slightly to meet Emily's gaze.

"It's mine," she says. "I inherited some money when my grandfather died, much to my mother's dismay, of course, and when I came across this by accident, I just had to buy it."

"I didn't know."

"No one does."

Spencer blinks, surprised and also a little confused.

"What about Aaron?"

Emily shakes her head. "I never told him."

"Why are you telling me?"

"I don't know yet," Emily says and reaches for his hand, pulling him with her towards the house.

 **.**

 **2008**

 **October**

 **.**

It's Hotch who insists they be taken to the hospital. Emily being Emily tries to argue, telling him that it's a waste of time to spend hours in a local ER, but Hotch won't have any of it.

Two hours later Spencer is still sitting on a gurney in an overstuffed ER hallway, waiting, the taste of ashes on his tongue slowly driving him insane. He has no idea where Emily went and he hasn't seen anyone else from the team either. He's tired and all he really wants is to go home.

Getting to his feet, he decides to look for some water at least. He's about to round the corner at the end of the hallway when Hotch's voice makes him stop.

"Emily, you can't just leave. We need to talk about this."

"No, Aaron, we don't. And I'm leaving, I told you I'm fine."

"You can't be fine, Emily. Did you at least get checked?"

"I just told you, I'm fine!" Emily snaps, her voice frantic. Intuitively, Spencer takes a step back.

He knows he shouldn't listen, but they're standing in the middle of an empty hospital hallway, not exactly the place to have a private conversation.

"Emily, this isn't-" Hotch starts and stops, and Spencer imagines him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What do you want me to do?" he asks only a moment later, sounding just as tired as Spencer feels.

"Keep it out of your report," Emily murmurs, her voice determined. "This has to stay between us. I don't want to talk about it ever again."

"You can't expect me to pretend this didn't happen! You need to talk to someone, you need to-"

"The only thing I need is for you to listen to me! If Reid finds out what really happened, he'll never be able to-" she stops, and Spencer doesn't dare breathe. "This would break him. Do you understand that, Aaron?"

"I do, but I can't just pretend-"

"There's nothing for you to do anymore, Aaron! You can't arrest a person who's dead anyway! Let it go."

"We should have come in sooner, this is all my fault. If I-"

"Stop it, Aaron. Just _fucking_ stop it."

"Emily…" the rest of Hotch's sentence is drowned out by an alarm going off in a room somewhere further down the hall and Spencer stumbles backwards, startled.

It's not until later, back on the jet, when Emily sits down across from him, that he understands.

 _In the end all it takes is one look into her eyes._

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **April**

 **.**

By the time Aaron hears Emily's car pull up into the driveway it's already gone dark.

He's in the kitchen, making diner, while Jack's upstairs playing in his room. The girls are seated next to him on the kitchen floor, doing their best to humor their grumpy baby brother.

"Mommy is back," Talin announces happily, already on her feet the second she hears the key turn in the lock.

Emily isn't fully inside the house when their daughter starts rambling on about her day.

"You have to meet her, Mommy! Lenah is really, really nice and she played with us the whole afternoon!"

Aaron keeps standing next to the stove, absently stirring the pasta sauce, while Talin keeps telling her mother every detail of the day. While his daughter is talking loud enough for him to hear her without even trying, he's barely able to catch Emily's answers.

When they make their way into the kitchen together, the first thing Aaron notices is the fact that Emily isn't wearing the same clothes she did when she left the house that morning.

She swapped the formal business outfit for a loose-fitting dark blouse and a pair of black pants, and even from across the room he can see the spackles of mud dotting the seams.

 _Where the hell have you been?_

She makes her way over, giving Lacey a kiss on the forehead and lifting Matteo into her arms.

"I guess we found a nanny, huh?" she states with a smile, and Aaron has to push himself to return it. He nods.

"The girls love her. Jack isn't exactly happy about it because he says he's too old to have a nanny in the first place, but he thinks she's alright nonetheless."

"And what about you?" Emily wants to know, trying to keep Matteo from stuffing her hair into his mouth.

"I don't know yet. She starts next Monday and then we just have to wait and see if it works out. I told her to be there at seven."

"Good." Emily nods and gives him a warm smile, her hand brushing against his when she turns to the girls and tells them to pick out a board game to play with her.

Aaron waits until the twins have left the kitchen before he asks: "How was your meeting?"

"It went well. They didn't have anything to add."

"Did you meet at the park or something?" He tries to make it sound casual, but he's watching her closely.

Emily seems irritated, but only for a second. A shadow crosses her face before she answers: "No, of course not. You know Sarah, she wouldn't set a foot in a park or anywhere else she could get mud on her clothes."

The challenging look on her face speaks volumes and he knows he should say something, knows she's waiting for it. But instead he turns back to the stove and says nothing at all.

 **.**

 _I'm not talking about the people I pay to come here._

Looking out the window and into the darkness, Spencer can't stop his mind from reeling.

He'd known for quite some time that his money couldn't be enough to cover even half the costs, but somehow he hadn't really thought that Emily was paying for all of it either.

 _No, that's a lie._

 _Of course I knew._

He shuts his eyes in defeat. Wishing he could make himself believe that it had only been a slip, that she never intended to tell him. But this was Emily and things like that didn't happen to Emily by accident. She only ever said what she truly wanted to say. She was too composed to make a mistake. If she had planned to tell him, than she had done it for a reason. A reason he needed to figure out soon.

There was this nagging feeling in the back of his head that wouldn't leave him alone, the certainty that something was wrong.

Her pregnancy explained most of the things he noticed over the past few weeks, but it didn't explain all of them, and he was starting to get more and more worried.

She'd never been there on a weekend before, not once in five years. And she'd never been there without bringing at least one of the kids.

But even though he'd been angry at her for pushing him, he'd called JJ, and her voice had given away just how happy she was. He'd told her to come by next Saturday and despite all his fears, he could hardly wait to see her, as well as Henry and Michael.

Maybe Emily was right. Maybe it was time to move on.

 _She did, didn't she?_

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

"Slow down, Emily!"

He sounds frightened, _bloody frightened,_ and of course he is.

"Emily, please slow down!"

She doesn't, if anything she goes faster.

"Emily!"

She doesn't dare look at him, afraid the panic in his eyes might stop her.

 _You should have left the car when I told you to._

"Emily!"

 _I'm sorry._

She goes faster the second the lonely tree at the crossroad comes into sight, knowing all too well how fast she has to go to cause a fatal accident. And of course, Spencer knows too.

"You need to slow down, Emily!"

 _I can't._

She wishes she could tell him that she knows what she's doing, that she knows exactly when to spin the wheel to spare his side of the car. But there's no time.

"I'm sorry, Spence," she states quietly, tears starting to fall down her cheeks while she yanks the steering wheel to the right, sending their SUV skidding over the asphalt.

She should be scared. But she isn't.

"No, Emily! No!"

In a fraction of a second everything changes.

Before she even has time to blink Spencer's already reaching for the wheel, jerking it to left violently, right before the car crashes into the tree.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**


	8. Part 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, it really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part VIII**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **April**

 **.**

Emily sits at the kitchen table listening to the quiet around her, eyes closed, with a cup of tea in hand. She can't remember a time it had ever been this silent in the house.

"This is unsettling," Aaron states, and Emily opens her eyes to meet his gaze. He's standing at the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in his hand, ready to leave for work.

"It is," Emily admits reluctantly, wondering if she'd ever been alone here with Aaron before.

For the first time, Lenah had taken Matteo with her while she took Jack and the girls to school. While a part of Emily was relieved she didn't have to take care of a screaming baby along with her morning sickness, another part just felt guilty.

"We can still change our minds," Aaron offers, and Emily nods, wishing they actually could.

"Have you eaten something?"

"No." Emily shakes her head. There was no point in lying. But there was also no point in eating. She wouldn't be able to keep it down anyway. "I promise I'll try later," she adds, and gives him a reassuring smile. It's not even a lie. She will try, she just favors being alone. She doesn't need him to hold back her hair when she fails.

"Emily, if you can't-"

"I know, Aaron. I have a doctor's appointment next week. We'll discuss it then."

"I don't think we should wait that long. You've already lost weight, haven't you?"

"It's not any different than it was the last time," Emily says, putting her cup back down on the table. "You don't have to worry, it'll be okay."

She tries to sound convincing enough for him to let it go, at least for now, but he doesn't look like he's having any of it.

"You know you're just as much responsible for this as I am, right?" she snaps, unable to fight her own frustration any longer. "It's not like I actually wanted this to happen. We agreed it wouldn't."

"I know," Aaron admits, all apologetic and understanding now, and Emily feels sorry for snapping at him in the first place. He doesn't deserve that.

"I'm sorry," she mutters, briefly closing her eyes. "It's just ... why can't this be a little less difficult, just once."

He doesn't answer, instead sits down across from her, his hand reaching for hers from over the table and she lets him, not sure which one of them needs the sudden comfort more.

"JJ told me to thank you for her. Apparently she tried calling you, but you wouldn't answer your phone."

There's an accusation in his voice Emily decides to ignore.

"What would JJ have to thank me for?" she asks innocently, holding his gaze steadily.

"For talking to Spencer and for changing his mind. She went to see him last Saturday with Henry and Michael."

"I didn't do anything. He just realized it was about time."

"JJ said when she asked Spencer what changed his mind, he told her you did."

Emily nods, absently scolding herself. She should have predicted that. Of course Spencer would say that.

"You're going to be late for work," she announces suddenly, pulling back her hand as she gets up from the table.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2008**

 **November**

 **.**

Nothing has changed.

It's what Spencer keeps telling himself for weeks. It's what it takes to get him out of bed in the morning. But it's a lie and he knows it.

The change in Emily's behavior is barely noticeable and for someone not able to look behind her mask, impossible to see. But he has noticed, he does see, and it's getting more and more difficult for him to ignore the guilt that is eating him up from the inside.

 _It's my fault._

 _It's all my fault._

If he'd just said something. If he hadn't allowed her to step forward, to take the blow, then none of this would have happened. It might have cost his life, sure, but in his opinion that would have been much better than living with the knowledge of what happened, happened because he was too scared to open his mouth.

 _It was my decision and I would to it again._

He didn't doubt that. Of course she would do it again, without blinking. _That's just the way she is._

It's probably the only thing that hasn't changed yet.

 **.**

 **2008**

 **December**

 **.**

He's sitting at the other end of the jet, hiding behind a book and pretending not to notice what's going on in the aisle across from him.

Emily's sitting at the window, with her eyes closed and her hands curled tightly around the armrests of her seat. She's barely keeping it together and he's not exactly surprised.

The first time he'd noticed her constricted pupils he'd put it off as two painkillers too many, then she'd fallen asleep mid-talk right at the table in some small town police station and he'd been unable to wake her up. The only reason that incident hadn't lead to any consequences was the fact that the others had been gone long enough for her to come back to her senses on her own.

When he spotted the bottle of _Lorazepam_ in her handbag last week, only partly by accident and only because he knew what it looked like, he had known for sure what was going on.

He knows he should say something, not only to her but especially to Hotch. What she was doing wasn't just stupid, it was dangerous and not only for her, but for all of them. The last thing she should be doing was driving a car, never mind carrying a gun.

But he couldn't get himself to intervene. After all, it was his fault she was in this state in the first place.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches Hotch sit down next to her, casually handing her a glass of water, but not letting go of it himself. Judging by the way Emily's hands are shaking, it might be a good thing.

He asks her something, but it's too quiet for Spencer to hear. Emily shakes her head and then she stops, turning even paler than before, and Spencer wonders if she's in withdrawal because she choose to stop taking the pills on her own or because she ran out on them. He suspects the latter.

He watches in silence when Emily rests her head against Hotch's shoulder, in no condition to remember that she's not supposed to do that, _not here where he's nothing more than her supervisor,_ but Hotch doesn't even flinch, not even when Morgan starts joking, asking what he missed.

It's then that Spencer wishes they would just quit pretending, quit lying, and for one second he thinks about spilling the truth. Morgan's innocent joke the perfect opportunity.

But then he doesn't. He keeps staring at his book, the same page he's been staring at for over an hour and tells himself that it's none of his business anyway.

 **.**

 **2009**

 **January**

.

Henry's christening is at the end of January.

It's a cold but sunny day, and after church they meet at JJ's to celebrate the day together as a family.

Spencer is sitting on the couch with Henry in his arms, the little boy sleeping peacefully and completely oblivious to the fact that this is his big day. Emily's sitting next to him and Spencer wishes he wouldn't have noticed how uncomfortable she feels. It's obvious to him that she wants nothing more than to leave, and he's sure she's going to do just that the first chance she gets.

Hotch is talking to Will and Rossi at the other end of the room, but Spencer is aware of the way he keeps glancing in their direction. Careful, _worried._ Slightly alarmed.

Emily keeps shifting her position next to him, getting more and more restless until Spencer can't take it any longer.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his question making her grow still immediately. At first she's quiet, then she mutters something he doesn't catch before she gets up, disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

He gets up too. Handing Henry over to Garcia to follow Emily. He finds her in the kitchen, two glasses of champagne in her hands, one empty, the other one halfway to her lips. When she spots him standing in the open doorway she stops.

"You shouldn't be drinking."

She chuckles. "And why is that?" she asks, slightly amused. A dangerous smile curling at her lips.

"It doesn't go well with the pills you take."

There's a flicker of surprise in her eyes, before they grow dark. "I don't know what you're talking about," she states, downing the champagne in one go and reaching for a third glass as if to prove her point.

"Two years ago you told me you were helping me because you knew I would do it for you too. I think it's time I do."

For a moment Emily just stares, then she starts to laugh, reaching for another glass of champagne on her way to the door.

"Good luck trying," she whispers quietly, not missing a beat, before she walks out.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **April**

 **.**

"This is stupid!" Jack states angrily, before throwing his pencil on the kitchen floor and pushing his notebook aside. "I don't want to do this anymore!"

Throwing a glance over her shoulder from where she's standing at the kitchen sink, Emily watches as Jack leans back in his chair, his arms crossed defiantly over his chest.

 _I don't want to do keep doing this either,_ Emily thinks, and for a moment she's tempted to take the notebook and finish Jack's math's homework herself. She's been trying to help him since they had dinner, but it has become completely pointless. By now Emily is just as tired and annoyed as Jack is.

Briefly closing her eyes, Emily takes a breath. "Let's just try again, Jack."

"I don't get it!" the boy complains once more, but in the reflection of the windowpane Emily can see him reach down to pick up his pencil.

"We just try again, Jack," Emily starts, all calm and understanding, wondering if it's her or Jack or that stupid homework all on it's own.

She repeats her previous explanation, slower this time, hoping against hope that it will finally do the trick. _It doesn't._

"But that's not making any sense!" Jack mutters five minutes later, getting more and more frustrated. So does Emily.

Sighing, hands still in the dishwater, she turns, thinking that maybe Aaron should take over, when there's something sharp and painful against her left wrist.

Biting her lip against the pain she turns her head back to the sink. When she looks down the water's already turning red.

"Can you explain that again?" Jack begs, and Emily swallows, slowly pulling her hand out of the dishwater. Her eyes going wide when she spots the gash on the inside of her left wrist.

 _Fuck._

"Jack, please go and get your father for me."

"Can we do this first? I really-"

"Jack, please."

"Fine," the boy mutters reluctantly before getting up. Emily takes a breath before letting her hand sink back into the water, not sure what else to do, already feeling light headed.

"Do you need something?" she hears Aaron's voice a moment later. She's still searching for words when he starts cursing loudly under his breath the second he gets a look at the water.

"How on earth did this happen?" he asks, alarm evident in his voice, as he grabs a clean kitchen towel and pulls her hand out of the water.

All she sees is blood.

"Jack, please go get my phone," Aaron calls, tying the towel tightly around the bleeding wound. It's to no avail: the blood's already seeping through and Emily's about to throw up.

"Close your eyes," Aaron orders firmly, helping her sit down on the floor. His voice all strained when he tells Jack to call Dave.

"Tell him it's an emergency and he has to come over."

"And if he doesn't answer?" Jack asks, and Emily can hear just how frightened he is even when he tries to mask it.

"It's just a cut, Aaron." Emily mutters, trying to open her eyes. "There's no need..." she adds, but Aaron's not even listening to her. And of course he isn't. _It isn't_ _just a cut._

"Just try it, Jack. If he doesn't answer, try Penelope. You have to look after the twins until one of them is here, alright? I'll take Matteo..." Aarons voice trails off and so does Jack's and she must have blacked out for a moment, because the next thing Emily knows, she's in the car, Aaron fastening the seatbelt for her.

"It'll be okay," he murmurs, mostly to himself, and Emily thinks he might not even be talking about that cut any longer.

.

The drive back home from the hospital is awfully quiet, even Matteo has stopped screaming.

Aaron glances at his youngest in the rearview mirror, the little boy sucking angrily at his fingers from where he's tucked in his car seat in the back, obviously hungry and without a doubt in need of a fresh diaper.

Holding back a sigh, Aaron turns his eyes back to the road, scolding himself for not taking the baby's changing bag with them. That it was usually Emily who remembered things like that wasn't exactly an excuse.

Out of the corner of his eye he looks over to where she's sitting next to him in the passenger seat. She hasn't said a word, at least not to him, not since they left the house hours ago. Now she's quietly staring out of the window, her bandaged wrist resting in her lap, and he can't help but be grateful for the fact that she's wearing a black shirt that hides the blood stains he knows are there.

"How did it happen?" he finally pushes himself to ask, trying to sound calm and reasoned, even though he's anything but.

"I don't know," Emily answers after a moment, clearing her throat and turning slightly to look at him. "I guess I wasn't paying enough attention to what I was doing."

"Emily-"

"I didn't do it on purpose if that's what you want to know."

"That's not what I was thinking," he states firmly, but it's a lie and they both know it. He couldn't push the thought out of his head, no matter how hard he tried.

 _Of course he hadn't mentioned that back at the ER._

"Maybe you should have stayed in the hospital," Aaron says, his hands tightening around the wheel. "You haven't been feeling well anyway."

"I won't be feeling well for the next couple of months, Aaron. Better get used to it now."

She turns her head away once more, looking back out of the window and into the darkness rushing by the car window.

"Does it hurt?"

"I'll be fine."

"Of course you will," Aaron mutters irritated, annoyed with himself.

 _There is no escaping it, is there? It's only getting worse._

"Do you regret it?" The question is out before he can think better of it.

"What do you mean?" Emily asks, but the slight quiver in her voice tells him that she already knows.

"Us," he explains, his gaze fixed on the road in front of him. "Do your regret us?"

She's quiet for a really long time, _too long_ , and when she finally answers everything has changed.

"Don't tell me you don't," she mutters so quietly he almost doesn't hear her. "We wouldn't even be here if Haley hadn't died."

Aaron has to resist the urge to close his eyes. "Is that what you think?"

"You don't have to admit it. But we both know it's true. All of the sudden you were a single father with a traumatized little boy and having an affair just wasn't enough anymore."

"That's not why I asked you to marry me, Emily."

"It's what got us here, Aaron."

"What do you think is going to happen if Jack finds out one day?" she adds. "About how long we've been together. That we've been together long before he even existed. Sooner or later he'll start asking questions, he'll realize something isn't adding up. Everything is going to fall apart when he understands that I'm the only reason his mother had to die."

Aaron frowns. "What are you talking about?"

"I was the one insisting we keep us a secret. If we hadn't, Foyet wouldn't have gone after Haley and you know it. He'd have come after me, Aaron. Not her."

Her voice is quiet, but calm and sure, and suddenly Aaron feels sick.

"You're telling me that for the last seven years you've been feeling responsible for what happened to Haley?"

"Of course I do."

Aaron shakes his head. "Emily, that's-" he stops briefly, before spinning the wheel to the right and pulling the car over to the side of the road without giving it a second thought.

"What are you doing?" Emily asks, completely confused.

He stops the car, already turning to fully face her, his hands reaching forward to cup her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him.

"I want you to listen to me, Emily. What happened to Haley wasn't your fault. And I never, not even once, thought otherwise. Even if Foyet had known about you, it wouldn't have made a difference."

Emily laughs; it sounds bitter. "Of course it would have made a difference!" she growls, pulling away from him. "And you know that damn well, Aaron!"

"We don't know anything! I don't even know where this is coming from all of a sudden! What happened wasn't your fault. If you want to blame someone then blame me. I could have stopped Foyet, long before everything spun out of control, but I just..."

"No, Aaron. That's just about the point! You couldn't have. That's not who you are."

"But I did it anyway," Aaron states, and for one second he's back in that house, back in that bedroom, back...

"What do you think Jack will have to say about that?" He swallows and turns, meeting Emily's gaze again. She looks sad.

"That you saved his life. While I sentenced his mother to death."

"God, Emily, how can you even..." he stops, pinching the bridge of his nose and leaning his head back against his seat. It gets silent, but it's not a comfortable silence, and Aaron regrets starting a conversation in the first place.

 _Where is this coming from all of a sudden?_

It's Emily who speaks up first.

"Sarah told me someone is doing a book about Foyet."

"Excuse me?" Aaron sits up straight.

"Frank is thrilled, you know how well serial killers sell."

"Is that what this is all about? You're afraid someone-" Aaron swallows, things suddenly making much more sense to him. "Did she tell you who?" he asks. "We could try and stop it, or at least-"

Emily shakes her head at him tiredly. "You know how those things work, Aaron. There is no stopping it. You have to prepare to tell Jack the truth, before someone else does."

.

By the time they pull into the driveway Matteo is back to screaming.

Aaron looks torn, but Emily just motions for him to take care of their son, she'll be fine on her own.

She keeps watching as Aaron disappears into the house with the screaming baby, trying his best to comfort him so he won't wake up the whole neighborhood, and Emily makes a mental note to put some spare diapers into Aaron's car too.

Maybe we should have only one car, Emily muses and almost laughs, realizing what kind of a car that would have to be to have enough space for all of them.

No _. Not going to happen._ Not in this life.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Emily leans her head back on the seat, the throbbing pain in her left wrist a painful reminder of what happened. Of course it had taken stiches to fix it, too many for her liking. Just thinking about it made her stomach flip. That this was mostly due to her pregnancy didn't make her feel any better.

Aaron had looked like hell standing next to her, with their screaming son in his arms while some intern stitched her up. Emily didn't like the thought of Aaron thinking she'd done it on purpose, but she couldn't exactly prove him otherwise. She didn't even remember having a knife in the dishwater in the first place. But she had to admit that paying not enough attention to what she'd been doing didn't sound any better.

She hadn't planned to talk to him about the book so soon. And she definitely hadn't planned on talking to him about Haley, especially not while he was driving, but then he'd asked and things had gotten out of hand way too fast.

He hadn't been as defensive as she'd expected him to be hearing about the book. Of course that would change dramatically if he knew she was the one writing it, but a part of her already wondered if he might be able to forgive her anyway.

After all, Sarah was right. Sooner or later someone would tell the truth. It might be better if she did it herself to keep it under control.

Startled by a knock on the window, Emily opens her eyes to find Dave watching her quizzically from next to the car.

"Everything alright?" he asks when he opens the door for her, and Emily forces herself to wave his concern off with a laugh, the lie falling from her lips with ease.

"Of course."

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

When she opens her eyes she's lying in a hospital bed, Aaron sitting next to her, his hand curled around hers, and it's not making any sense at all.

Emily frowns.

"You're alive," she murmurs, her voice hoarse, her hand reaching for his face. "They said..."

"I'm not going anywhere," Aaron says, his gaze never breaking away, his hand still tightly holding hers, and Emily thinks this can't be real.

She must be dreaming.

 _Or maybe... maybe..._

"The babies are fine. But the doctors want you to rest, just to make sure."

 _Babies. Wait. What?_

She blinks, trying to remember and then...

And then it all comes back.

"Where's Spencer?" she asks, and it takes her one moment too long to understand she just called him by his forename, something she's only ever done when she's alone with him. "I need to see him."

"You can't, Emily. Not right now."

"Where is he, Aaron?" she asks once more, alarm rising in her throat.

"It's complicated, sweetheart. And you really need to rest."

She shakes her head, trying to sit up, starts tearing at the tubes attached to her skin in frustration.

"No, Aaron. I need to see him. I need to talk to him. Where is he?"

"He's here, but..."

"This is my fault, this is all my fault," Emily mutters, still trying to get up despite the dizziness and the pain.

"No," Aaron shakes his head, a frown growing on his face. "It's not your fault. Spencer already told us. The roads were icy, you lost control of the car when it slipped."

"No, that's not right, that's not what happened."

"You need to rest, Emily," Aaron says once more, gently forcing her back down on the mattress and pushing the nurse button. "I'll take you to him as soon as possible."

"You don't understand; this is my fault. I should have... I shouldn't be..."

"It wasn't your fault, Emily. Everything's going to be okay. I promise."

 _No, nothing will ever be okay agai_ n, Emily thinks, when out of the corner of her eye she spots a nurse rushing into the room.

Aaron moves backwards and then everything just blurs and stills and finally turns dark again.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**


	9. Part 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, it really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

 **You know that saying that you have to hit rock bottom first? Emily isn't there yet. But no one is going to leave or die or get divorced or anything else along those lines.**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part IX**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **May**

 **.**

With her cheek pressed against the cold tiles and her eyes closed, Emily curls up on the bathroom floor, trying to ignore the persistent knocking on the door, truly regretting having locked it in the first place. That she'd done it out of habit and not on purpose didn't change much now.

She couldn't move, not without throwing up, which would make it impossible to reach the _damn_ door anyway. She just hoped Aaron would remember to pick the lock, rather than break down the door.

There's the sound of the doorbell before it gets silent and Emily allows herself to drift off, exhaustion finally taking its toll.

She wakes to the sound of Aaron's voice, asking if she wants him to help her back to bed. Not trusting herself to move that far away from the bathroom just yet, Emily shakes her head.

"The baby hates me already," she muses quietly. "Not that I can blame him."

"Him?" Aaron echoes, and it takes Emily a moment to understand what she just gave away. "Are you sure it's a boy?" Aaron asks, excitement in his voice.

"Yeah," Emily answers, briefly thinking about that moment at the ultrasound a week ago. She'd known instantly that Aaron would be thrilled, and she arranged her next appointment for a time he would be able to go with her.

"Aren't you going to be late for work?" she murmurs, wondering what time it is.

"If it were a weekday, yes," Aaron chuckles, making her frown, even more so with his next words. "It's Saturday, Emily."

 _Saturday?_

"Right," she mumbles, slowly opening her eyes. "But if it's Saturday then where are the kids?"

"Garcia took Matteo and the twins to the zoo," Aaron explains, his hand reaching for hers. "Jack's downstairs doing his homework."

"He didn't want to go with them?"

"No, he says he's too old to go to the zoo," Aaron sighs, and Emily notices the hint of sadness in his voice right away. "Do you remember when he wanted to go every single weekend?"

"He loved the penguins," Emily whispers, remembering it well. Things had been different back then.

 _Or had they?_

"So, are there any French names left on your short list?" Aaron asks, changing the subject suddenly, his hand brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

Making a mental note to talk to Aaron about Jack later, Emily nods.

"Matthieu," she informs him and closes her eyes, too exhausted to keep them open any longer.

"Isn't it too similar to Matteo?" Aaron asks, amusement in his voice. "What are we calling him for short? We can't call both Matty. I mean we could but-"

"We're not calling either of them Matty," Emily states tiredly. "I'm not going to ruin great names by cutting them short."

Aaron chuckles. "Matthieu it is then," he murmurs, his hand squeezing hers and Emily smiles, knowing full well there would be no further discussion about it.

At least some things were just that easy between them.

.

"Is Emily sick, Dad?"

"No, you know Emily doesn't-" Aaron realizes his mistake one moment too late.

"I knew it," Jack announces with a grin on his face from where he's lounging on the couch. "That means I'll get the empty room on the second floor."

Aaron sighs, before he bends down to pick up a doll from the parquet floor. "You can't tell anyone, Jack. Not yet."

"As long as I get the room." His oldest gives a shrug, not looking up from his Nintendo this time, and Aaron shakes his head at himself, already trying to think of a way to explain this to Emily.

The second floor was hers and just off limits. He promised Jack the empty room on a whim, right after Matteo had been born, certain there wouldn't be another baby, but he hadn't thought it through. A part of him had hoped he'd already forgotten about it, but of course he hadn't. Emily wouldn't be too happy about this.

Aaron stops, Lacey's doll still in his hands, to take another look at his son.

"Jack, you know another baby doesn't mean- "

"That you don't love me, I know, I know." Flipping his Nintendo shut, Jack sits up. "It's fine, Dad. Really."

"I mean it, Jack," Aaron states. "I know I still spend too much time at work and we don't have enough-"

"Dad, I told you, it's fine." Jack sounds annoyed, but Aaron isn't sure if it's just because he wants to return to his game and he wonders if now that he finally has a moment alone with him, it might be a good moment to talk to him about his mother.

"I need to talk to you about something," Aaron starts, briefly looking down at the doll in his hands, unsure how to start the conversation. "It's-"

"Can't it wait, Dad?" Jack cuts him off impatiently, a pleading look on his face. "You promised me I could play when I finished my homework."

"Sure," Aaron nods, hating himself for how relieved he feels, and he watches quietly as Jack leans into the cushions, his attention back to the gaming console in his hands.

Emily was right: he had to talk to Jack. But maybe it didn't have to be today.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2009**

 **March**

 **.**

When he shows up on her doorstep one Saturday evening he's not surprised she doesn't open the door for him. It's neither polite nor legal to pick her lock, but he does it anyway. It's not like she hasn't done the same before.

He finds her in front of the TV, curled up on her couch in the living room and not even a little bit surprised to see him.

"We need to talk, Emily."

"Do we?" she asks, her eyes fixed on the TV screen.

"Does Hotch know about this?"

"About what?"

"About the pills, Emily! Does Hotch know about the _damn_ pills!" He's losing his composure, even more so when he spots the self-assured smirk on Emily's face.

"Stop cursing, Spence. It doesn't suit you."

"This isn't about me."

"No? Then why are you here _fucking_ lecturing me in my own living room?"

Despite her harsh words she doesn't sound angry, only tired. When she sits up, he moves forward to sit down in the empty space next to her.

"I'm just worried about you," he tells her, all soft and gentle now, his hand curling around hers carefully.

"I know," Emily whispers, her head coming to a rest against his shoulder. "But you don't have to. I promise."

 _It's a lie._

Just like everything else.

 **.**

 **2009**

 **April**

 **.**

Cherry Hill is painful. But it's Emily who takes this case the hardest. When she hurries out of the interrogation room, close to tears, he follows intuitively.

He finds her outside the police station, sitting on a bench, her eyes turned towards the sky.

"You alright?" Spencer asks, even though it's a dumb question because she obviously isn't.

"Sure, it's just-" There's the sharp intake of breath, followed by a painful gasp, and then she starts to cry.

At first all he wants to do is run. Get Hotch or Rossi, or JJ, anyone but him. But then he doesn't. He moves towards her instead, settling down on the bench next to her in silence.

There's nothing to say, not really. There aren't any words to make her feel better and so he stays quiet, watching the overcast sky above their heads, his hand gently laid upon hers.

And he thinks that for today, _just for today_ , it's enough.

 **.**

 **2009**

 **May**

 **.**

When Spencer comes home Emily's waiting for him, sitting on his couch in the living room, and he doesn't even bother asking how she got in.

"You could have died," she states, and Spencer stays silent, not sure why she's even there. He stands next to the door, keys still in his hands, slightly uncomfortable, no idea how to act around her anymore.

"I miss you," she murmurs softy, getting up and stepping closer. When she reaches for his face he doesn't dare breathe. He's longing to touch her, but things are different now.

She bends forward, for just one kiss, and Spencer thinks it might be better to stop her right there. He's not what she wants. He's not enough; maybe for her nothing is.

But she kisses him again, more forceful this time, desperate, _truly desperate_ , for something she can't ask for, something she might not even know she needs.

"Please, Spencer, please," she breathes against his lips, and the longing in her voice is too much to resist. Besides, saying no to her isn't an option; that was the thing he'd learned first.

It's later, much later, in the security of his bedroom that she starts talking.

"Sometimes I wish it'd be all over," she whispers, her eyes watching the shadows on the ceiling. "It's just too much. Too much of everything."

It's a confession, probably the most honest thing she's ever told him and Spencer has no idea what to do with it.

"Sometimes I just want to end it," she adds, before turning on her side, her dark eyes finding his. "Stop looking at me like that," she breathes, a smile tugging at her lips. "I'm not going to blow my brains out."

"No," Spencer murmurs, unable to look away even though it's the only thing he wants to do. "But if there's a gun pointed in your direction you might not step out of the way either."

She neither admits nor denies it, but there's no need to: the smile on her lips tells him more than enough.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **May**

 **.**

"Feels like dejà vu," Clyde proclaims the moment she slips into the passenger seat of his rental car.

Emily rolls her eyes even though she can't deny the excitement she felt when she snuck out of the house a few moments ago.

"So are you going to tell me why I had to come all the way to the States? It's not about your friend Spencer again, is it? I heard his appointment wasn't what you hoped for?"

"No," Emily murmurs, looking out the window and into the dark. "I need a favor," she adds, not even turning around when she hands Clyde the thick envelope.

"I'm not going to take your money, Em. Just tell me what you need and I-"

"You probably want to take a look first. Maybe you'll change your mind."

He gets quiet and Emily shuts her eyes, counting the seconds until she hears him draw a sharp breath. "Are you sure about this?" he asks quietly, and there's a hesitation in his voice she doesn't like.

 _There's no one else I can ask. If he tells me no..._

"Are you going to do it?" she asks, and this time she turns her head, her eyes searching his for the answer she needs.

"Do I have a choice?" Folding the piece of paper and slipping it into the front pocket of his leather jacket, Clyde hands back the envelope. "I don't need your money, though."

"Are you sure? It's a lot to-"

"It's not the only possibility you have," Clyde cuts her off abruptly. "I promised I'd take you back and I meant it. If you want to come back I can still-"

"Get me a desk job?" Emily laughs. "No, Clyde."

"I'm not talking about a desk job, darling. I'm sure I can-"

"No, Clyde," Emily shakes her head. "I appreciate it. But no."

"Don't you regret it?" he asks. "Leaving Interpol, leaving the CIA? Isn't that the reason you need my help now?"

"Sometimes I think I do," Emily mutters, looking down at her hands. "But if I could go back and change it all I don't think I would," she adds, absently playing with her wedding band. "I'm not sure what kind of a person that makes me considering how much I _fucked_ _up_ his life, but in the end I wouldn't change a thing, not even if I could. I was happy. He made me happy."

"Then why do you want me to do this?" he asks, intently tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Aaron won't understand."

"He doesn't have to, Clyde. And you don't have to understand it either. That's not what I'm asking you for."

"Emily-" he starts and then stops himself, briefly closing his eyes. "Tell me something that wasn't a lie. Just one thing, will you, darling?"

She leans back in her seat, a smile on her lips. "I loved working with you, Clyde. Every dangerous second. You believed in me from the beginning, you trusted me and my decisions and if I _fucked up_ you told me so without as much as a blink. I _bloody_ loved you for that."

He says nothing, but the way his grip has tightened around the wheel tells her enough. Stuffing the envelope back into her coat pocket, she slips out of the car.

"Take care, darling."

"You too," she whispers quietly, before throwing the door shut. He doesn't look back at her, but Emily keeps looking after the car long after it's gone.

She's always known what she'd meant to him. He loved her.

 _They all did._

.

It's the sound of the front door falling shut that wakes Aaron up.

When he finds the spot next to him empty, the sheets turned cold and Emily gone, he flies out of bed.

He finds her in the living room, seated on the couch, fully dressed despite the fact that it's the middle of the night. She must have heard him on the stairs, because she turns around abruptly, her eyes meeting his.

"Hey," she mutters quietly. "Why are you awake?"

"I could ask you the same."

"I went for a walk."

Aaron frowns. "In the middle of the night?"

It's Emily who looks away first and Aaron holds back a sigh before making his way over. When he sits down next to hear she rests her head against his shoulder.

"I miss being young," she states softly, a longing in her voice that's hard to miss.

"We're not that old. Just ask Dave, he'll assure you the best is yet to come."

"I'm sure for him that's true," Emily muses, interlacing her fingers with his. Her cold hands make Aaron wonder how long she's been outside.

"Do you remember that night you talked me into coming with you to that underground club?" he asks, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth at the memory.

"Sure, how could I ever forget? On the way home we stopped to have sex on the back seat of my mother's car."

"The car you took without asking, I might add."

Emily chuckles and Aaron watches her eyes glistening in the light. "You were so frightened we would get caught."

"And yet it didn't stop me from coming along for the ride."

"No," Emily murmurs, pulling her legs up on the couch to snuggle closer into his embrace. "It didn't."

"You were reckless," he tells her, absently running his fingers through her hair. "Not scared of anything. You did what you thought was right, no matter what others thought about it. I admired that."

"I was invincible," Emily muses. "I could do whatever I wanted because every time I messed up my mother took care of it."

"You sure knew how to get into trouble."

"But you _fucking_ loved it."

"No," Aaron murmurs. "I loved you. I always have."

He shouldn't admit that. Not out loud. Probably not at all. Because it means admitting something else, something he doesn't dare to think through, and so when he bends down to kiss her he pretends not to notice her tears, just like she pretends not to see his.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **November**

 **.**

With her hand around Spencer's, Emily sits next to his hospital bed. It's silent in the room, neither of them ready to speak.

There's no need to talk anyway, they both knew why they were there.

She feels the need to cry, but she knows she has no right to. If it hadn't been for her, they wouldn't be there in the first place.

In the end it's Spencer who breaks the silence, his free hand reaching for her face, his fingers brushing against her cheek.

"I don't regret it," he whispers. "Not even for a second. You're alive. And to me, that's the only thing that matters."

"How can you say that, Spencer?" Emily whispers hoarsely. "You might never be able to walk again. Your whole life is ... I..." her voice trails off, tears about to choke her. She shakes her head, swallowing thickly. She won't cry.

 _I can't._

"We have to tell them the truth, Spencer. This isn't right! We have to tell them what really happened."

"No."

"Spencer, this isn't-" she starts, but he just cuts her off.

"It was an accident, Emily. The roads were icy that night and you lost control of the car, that's all that happened. We're not going to talk about this, not ever again."

Emily shakes her head, tears threatening to fall.

 _That's not right._

"Telling the truth won't change anything for the better, Emily. We both know that. I saved your life for a reason, not so you could just throw it away all over again."

"But it's my fault! I did this to you!"

"No, you didn't," Spencer states, his hand squeezing hers so tight it hurts. "It was my decision, Emily. And I would do it again."

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**


	10. Part 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**

 **AN: Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and/or review my stories, it really means the world to me! And a BIG special thank you goes to my amazing beta reader, the wonderful greeneyedconstellations!**

 **Like I said before, no one is going to leave or die or get divorced or anything else along those lines.**

* * *

 **.**

 **The Color In Anything**

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **Part X**

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **May**

 **.**

"You were right," Spencer announces with a grin. "Getting a sandbox really was a great idea."

"That thing wasn't exactly what I had in mind when I said that," Emily states with a chuckle, her eyes on the oversized sandbox that was almost as big as the one they had at preschool.

"It's much more fun like this," Spencer muses with an even bigger grin than before, and Emily has to admit that he's right. Talin and Lacey were both busy building sandcastles, neither one of them even looking to where Spencer and Emily were seated on the porch.

"So what happened to that they can't miss preschool rule you told me about?" Spencer asks, carefully shifting Matteo to a different position on his lap.

Emily shrugs, a smug smile curling at the corners of her mouth. "The good thing about being pregnant is that I can get away with anything."

Spencer laughs. "You mean Aaron's too scared to argue with you?"

"No," Emily shakes her head, still smiling. "He's just trying not to upset me in any way."

"You always knew how to get your way," Spencer adds thoughtfully, and Emily nods, knows it's true. Bending down to retrieve her phone from her jacket pocket, Emily makes a face the second she gets a look at the screen.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah," Emily murmurs, her eyes on her phone. "Just a message from Sarah. Do you mind if I give her a call?"

"No, go ahead. We're fine here, right Matteo?" Spencer says, looking at the baby for reassurance. Matteo gives them a toothless grin, turning the brightly colored sand mold Lacey had given him earlier in his hands.

Emily chuckles. "I'll be right back," she promises, already on her way into the house. She stops in the hallway, quickly looking over her shoulder to make sure Spencer isn't watching before she grabs Matteo's changing bag from the floor and heads toward the kitchen.

She's not going to call Sarah; there hadn't been a message from her or anyone else at all.

She leaves her phone on the table before she opens the door to the basement, switching on the lights on her way down and heading straight for the stack of moving boxes at the far end of the cellar. Pushing them aside with one hand, she's already reaching for the crowbar she stuffed into the changing bag this morning with the other. Pulling loose two wooden floorboards she bends down to her knees, reaching inside with both of her hands to get ahold of the small fireproof box she left there years ago.

Pushing the box under a bunch of diapers in Matteo's changing bag along with the crowbar, Emily takes a few more moments to put everything back into place. It was very unlikely that anyone would come down into the basement, but she knew better than to rely on something like that.

With the changing bag slung around her shoulder, Emily heads back upstairs, brushing dust from her clothes as she goes. She's glad to find the kitchen empty, her quick detour still gone unnoticed.

She makes sure the basement door is safely locked behind her before she grabs her phone from the table. She's on her way out when something out of the corner of her eye makes her stop.

.

"Please, tell me this is for your mother."

Confused, Spencer turns his head, only to find Emily staring at him from the doorframe. She's holding the stack of leaflets from the kitchen table in her hands, and suddenly Spencer wishes he'd put them away.

"Spencer, please," she starts again and then stops, and he knows she already found the answer in his eyes.

"Is it about your mother? If you want to see her we can do that. I can take you or we can arrange for her to come here. Just tell me and I'll do it."

"It's about time I start taking care of myself again, Emily."

"By living in a board and care home at the other side of the country?" Emily asks in utter disbelief, and Spencer turns his gaze away, unable to look her in the eye any longer.

"That's just one option. And I have to admit it's not the best one. But there are many others."

"How long have you been thinking about this, Spencer?"

 _For months._

 _I've been thinking about this for months._

"Is this about your appointment, about what-"

"She didn't say anything we didn't already know, Emily! There is no hope. I accepted that years ago. It's time you do too." It sounds harsher than he intended it and he's glad he's not facing her, knows he couldn't bear the hurt in her eyes.

"I'd be lying if I said I'd be fine without your help and without your money. We both know I wouldn't. But I want to fix that. I need to fix that. You don't owe me anything, Emily. "

"Of course I do, Spencer. Without me you wouldn't even-"

"And without me you'd have probably never have felt the need to drive your car into a tree to begin with! Colorado changed you and that was all my fault!"

" _Fuck_ , Spencer, you can't compare a few broken ribs to-"

"He didn't just break your ribs!" It's out of his mouth before he can think about the consequences, but he's so tired of lying. So tired of pretending. And it's just about time.

 _Isn't it?_

"I overheard you and Aaron talking in the hospital that night," he adds. "I couldn't make sense of it. Not until later when you sat down across from me on the jet and I..." He takes a breath, shuts his eyes. "You weren't the same after-"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Emily cuts him off, before stepping forward and taking Matteo out of his arms. "Whatever you think you heard that night you-"

"Stop it, Emily! Just stop it! I know what happened! I know!"

It gets quiet. Awfully quiet, and when Spencer opens his eyes he finds Talin and Lacey watching wide-eyed from where they're standing on the lawn, sand toys in their hands. Swallowing thickly, Spencer forces himself to smile, trying to reassure the girls that everything was fine even though it wasn't.

 _It never will be._

"That's why you..." Emily whispers after what feels like forever, the pain in her voice nearly overwhelming.

"Emily," Spencer starts apologetically, turning slightly to reach for her hand, but Emily steps out of his reach easily.

"Don't," she whispers, not looking at him. "Just don't."

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2009**

 **July**

 **.**

He's at the zoo with JJ and Henry one Saturday afternoon when he catches sight of Emily and Jack at the elephants.

They're standing next to each other, Emily explaining something, Jack listening carefully. The way the boy is holding on to Emily's hand seems casual, like he's done it a hundred times before and even though he has no right to, Spencer can't help but feel left out.

 _She never told me._

He takes an involuntary step back and then another one when he sees Hotch, making his way towards them with three ice-cream cones in his hands and a smile on his face

"Did you know they were seeing each other?" JJ states suddenly, reminding Spencer that he wasn't alone.

"No," he lies and swallows, trying to avoid JJ's searching eyes.

"Let's go back to the sea lions," Spencer suggests miserably, before turning Henry's stroller around. "I think Henry really liked them."

"Spence, wait-" JJ starts, startled and also confused, but he doesn't.

 _He can't._

 **.**

 **2009**

 **August**

 **.**

He's on his way home through the park when he sees Emily on the playground with Jack. The boy building castles in the sandbox, Emily watching him from where she's sitting next to another woman on a bench only a few feet away.

Smiling to himself, Spencer's on his way towards her when he notices that the blonde woman sitting next to Emily isn't just anyone, but Haley.

Spencer stops, his eyes widening slightly, and he watches in confusion at how comfortable the two women seem to be around each other. Almost like they've done this before.

 _What else is there I don't know?_

It's Emily who notices him some time later. She looks startled and Spencer feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment. He turns abruptly, hurrying off in the other direction without looking back.

 **.**

 **2009**

 **September**

 **.**

When Spencer arrives at the office, Emily's already there. She's wearing the same clothes she wore the day before, the dark circles under her eyes proof that she's been up all night.

"I have to fix this," she states when he asks, her eyes fixed on a stack of folders, her voice heavy with guilt. "It's my fault."

Sitting down behind his desk, Spencer frowns. "How can this-"

"I insisted on keeping our relationship a secret," Emily cuts him off midsentence, her eyes lit with anger when they meet his. "If I hadn't, Foyet would have come after me, not them."

Spencer swallows. "You don't know that. He might have gone after Jack anyway."

Emily shakes her head and he knows there's no point talking her out of it.

"We need to get him," she murmurs. "If we don't ... if something happens to them ... I'll never forgive myself for it."

"We will get him," he tries to reassure her. "Until then they're safe. We did everything-"

"That's not true, Spencer," Emily spits, all furious now. "Haley and Jack aren't safe, not until we get Foyet."

Taken aback by her harsh reaction, Spencer watches quietly as Emily briefly shuts her eyes. For a second he thinks she's going to cry and he can't stop himself from getting back up and making his way towards her.

"Emily," he starts, his hand reaching for hers. The second his fingers brush against her skin her eyes flash open.

"Don't," she breathes, drawing her hand back instantly, and Spencer knows it's the beginning of the end.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2016**

 **May**

 **.**

Sitting behind his desk and staring out of the window into the clear blue sky, Aaron wishes he could call it a day and just go home. Not only because of the weather, but because there's so much he needs to get done and not a single one of them involves catching a serial killer. But whether he likes it or not, that's exactly what he signed up for when he took over from Strauss.

With a sigh Aaron turns around, surprised when he finds Dave in the open doorframe to his office.

"Do you have a moment?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"We need to talk about Emily," Dave states outright, before closing the door behind him.

"What happened?" Aaron asks, fighting the growing unease in his stomach. "Is she alright?"

"I think Spencer and Emily had a fight."

"A fight?" Aaron echoes, unsure what to make of it. "What are you talking about?"

"She called me to come and pick her up a lot sooner than usual," Dave starts to explain. "When I got to the clearing she was already waiting. She said everything was fine, but for the whole ride back she didn't say a word. And neither did the girls."

"Did you call Spencer?"

"I tried. He hasn't answered any of my calls."

"Was Lenah there when you took Emily and the kids home?" Aaron wants to know, his hand already hovering over his phone.

"She was already waiting in the driveway," Dave answers. "Emily's pregnant again, isn't she?" he adds after a pause.

Aaron shuts his eyes, nods. "She's not happy about it."

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

Aaron scoffs. "Don't you think that's enough?"

"That's not what I meant, Aaron. It's none of my business, but ... " Dave stops, as if not sure how to continue. "Is everything alright between the two of you?"

Leaning back in his chair, Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose. "I don't know," he admits tiredly. "I want to believe it's just the pregnancy. But something has changed. She has."

"Do you ever think about getting professional help?"

"You mean a marriage counselor?"

"No, I'm talking about a psychiatrist."

Aaron frowns. "I don't think I follow you."

"The last time I saw her like this she crashed a car into a tree."

"It was an accident, Dave. You know that. You read the report too, the roads-"

"No, Aaron. That's what Spencer told us when he woke up, that's why it's in those report. No one looked at it any further after that."

"What are you saying? That Spencer lied?"

"It would explain an awful lot."

"No," Aaron shakes his head. "That's not possible. That morning we just found out that we'd be having twins... she wouldn't ... " Aaron stops, feeling horribly sick all of a sudden.

"The doctors were certain you wouldn't survive the night, Aaron. Maybe..."

Aaron swallows. "Have you talked to anyone else about this?" he asks, his voice strained, his whole body tense. He watches Dave shake his head.

"No, of course not, and I'm not going to either. But I really think you should talk to Emily."

.

With her head propped up against her pillow, Emily's lying in the middle of the bed, Matteo peacefully sleeping in her arms. Talin, Lacey and Jack are sitting at the end of the king-sized mattress, Jack in the middle with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, the three of them watching a Disney movie. It was against every rule Emily ever set and probably against every parenting advice she'd ever heard, but for once she didn't even care.

It was getting late, dangerously close to the girls' bedtime, but Emily couldn't bring herself to ruin this moment of peace. Aaron had called right before dinner to let her know that he wouldn't be home on time tonight and the last thing she wanted right now was to be alone.

Despite her best efforts, Emily drifts off to sleep halfway through the movie. When she opens her eyes again she's alone, the bed empty, the TV shut off and the only light coming from the crack under the bathroom door.

Getting out of bed, she look into Matteo's crib, a smile on her lips at the sight of her sleeping son, the baby's small hand pressed against his soother as if he is afraid someone could take it away from him.

The sound of the bathroom door opening makes Emily turn around, her dark eyes finding Aaron's.

"Hey," he states, worry crossing his features. "Did I wake you up?" he asks, his hair still wet from the shower.

"No," Emily shakes her head. "When did you get home?"

"Late enough for the girls to be thrilled about the fact that they were still up and watching TV."

"I was exhausted," Emily states the obvious, not sure why she feels the need to defend herself. Aaron doesn't even look angry, only amused.

"They told me you had a great day," he says, moving towards her.

Emily nods, allowing Aaron to pull her into his arms. "I was feeling fine so I told Lenah to take to rest of the day off," she explains, briefly closing her eyes when she rests her head against his chest.

"How did your meeting go?" she adds, her fingers absently trailing down his back.

"I don't want to talk about work right now," Aaron mutters quietly, one hand on its way under her sleeping shirt.

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

"Actually," Aaron breathes, before slipping his free hand into the waistband of her shorts. "I don't want to talk about anything at all."

She's pushed gently back on the mattress only a second later, Aaron's lips trailing down her neck. It's all soft and gentle, _careful_ , almost agonizingly slow and so different from what they're both used to.

They've never been patient, not in bed, not with each other, _not at all_ and yet, tonight they are.

.

Aaron keeps lying awake long after Emily's fallen asleep. He's holding her tightly, close against his side, unable to tear his gaze away from her. Afraid she might just disappear the second he does.

 _She will._

Deep down her already knows.

There hadn't been a meeting. He lied. He'd taken a three-hour drive to see Spencer instead.

At first he'd been sure Spencer wouldn't even open the door for him, but to Aaron's surprise he hadn't even hesitated.

After his conversation with Dave he just had to know. But now that he did, he wished he didn't. Wished he'd never asked to begin with.

Maybe there was just so much truth a person could take after all.

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **2010**

 **December**

 **.**

"You're not really thinking about an abortion, Emily. Are you?"

Emily shuts her eyes, wishing she could flee the room like her doctor had only moments ago.

"You just survived a car accident and so did they. How can you even consider-" Aaron stops, and Emily knows he's about to break. He hasn't fully recovered, not yet, and with everything else happening around them it was too much, even for him.

"I can't be a mother, Aaron," Emily whispers, her eyes still closed, unable to look at him. She didn't want to have this conversation, but she was running out of time and she, _no they,_ had to make a decision.

"You're not alone in this. We'll do it together. We already talked about moving in together."

"No," Emily shakes her head stubbornly, anger rising in her chest. "You wanted us to be a family, you tried talking me into it."

"I'm not Haley," she adds, tears burning behind closed eyelids. "I'm not made for this. In a few weeks you'll go back to work, risk your life, while I'm stuck at home worrying whether I'll end up alone with three children or not. I can't do this."

 _I don't want to._

There's a long pause before Aaron reaches for her hand, his closing gently around hers. "It's not official yet, but Strauss decided to take an early retirement and I was offered her position."

 _I know._

 _I'm the one who arranged it._

"You would hate it," she whispers, tears about to choke her, and she wonders what he would say if he knew it was her doing. She'd done it for Jack, hadn't even known that she was pregnant back than.

"I would work decent hours and be out of the field. And let's not forget about the pay increase," Aaron notes, sounding surprisingly undisturbed.

"But you love what you do, isn't that what you told Strauss last year? That this job defines you? That you need this?"

Aaron shakes his head. "Last year I was offered an early pension which was the last thing I needed. This is different."

"Is it?" Emily asks quietly, finally opening her eyes despite the tears blurring her vision. "If you do this now you might regret it one day."

"No, Emily," Aaron states, _all sure_ , he's shaking his head once more. "I won't."

Unable to fight her tears any longer Emily finally starts to cry, and while Aaron bends forward to pull her into his arms, she can't stop thinking:

B _ut maybe I will._

 **.**

* * *

 **.**

 **.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing; everything belongs to its rightful owners.**


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